Is There Anybody Going To Listen To My Story?
by alt-rockmusic13
Summary: She doesn't know how she knows him and she doesn't know why she loves him so deeply, but it's just become Sarah Walker's job to protect John Lennon from anything the future has to hold for him. And not fall for Paul McCartney's charm along the way...
1. Chapter 1

There was a hard smash on her head. The world went dark.

…..

Sarah Walker woke up in a bed that wasn't her own, in a house that she didn't live in, in a country she'd never visited. But she knew where she was. She shot up from her sleep with a start, making all the blood rush from her head. She groaned and fell back to her pillow. It felt like she took one too many sips from a bottle last night. But she could remember exactly where she was last night. And it was no party.

She could remember everything perfectly. Yesterday was December 8, 2010. She, along with hundreds of other strangers, was gathered in the section of Central Park they dedicated 'Strawberry Fields'. In front of her was a black-and-white mosaic; the John Lennon memorial. It was covered in flowers, candles, vinyl records, pictures, everything to commemorate and remember John. Sarah placed her own tribute on the ground. A bundle of roses, her old metal peace sign necklace and a hand-written letter to John he would never read. As she looked up to see the Dakota, strung with flowers and signs of peace, a group of men caught her eye. They were all dressed in black and walking briskly to the gathered mourners.

Suddenly, a gun shot. The crowd ducked down in unison, everybody trying to protect everyone else from the danger. Sarah watched as the men, probably about 12 of them, advanced towards the group. There were bodies behind them, blood pooling around the people who only came to remember the man of international peace. As the sound of guns being fired and bodies falling to the ground continued, hysteria broke out in Strawberry Fields. John's fans broke up and tried to run from the armed men, but the shear size of the crowd made it near impossible to move. Screams and gunshots filled the air that was just occupied by a man's guitar as he sang 'Imagine'. Sarah was being trampled and tripping over the mass of people. The crowd rushed passed her as she was left behind. She turned to see one of the men point his gun at her. She screamed but the noise was too great, she couldn't even hear herself. He approached her and grabbed her forearm. He tugged her back out of the crowd and swung the butt of his gun against her head. She heard a distinct crack within her skull, and then everything went silent.

That was the very last thing she could remember. She ran her hand over the orange shag comforter on the bed that smelled strongly like home. But it wasn't home. It couldn't be home. Because home was… it was in America, she knew that much. What other reason would there be for her to be in Central Park on the evening of December 8, 2010? But this place, it wasn't Manhattan and it wasn't 2010. She was living in a small apartment, 1354 West Church Avenue in Liverpool, England. She was born and raised here. And it's not December 9, 2010. It's July 17, 1961.

This felt like some terrible time-traveling movie, except for the fact that she knew she was just waking up now. This room, this bed, the soft music coming from the next room, it all seems creepily like home. Sarah desperately tried to remember her live of the dream. If she could remember where she came from, what town in America she lived in, she could determine what was real. But she couldn't remember a thing before her arrival in Strawberry Fields, which she only knew as that park with the red gates she rarely visited. It didn't exist in New York City. Did it?

There were two lives repaying in her mind. She could remember the live with her mother here in England so well, all the pain and hardships they've been through that just pulled them closer together as mother and daughter. But she remembered so many details of her live in America. She knew what technologies were available then (will be available?) and all the facts and modern (future?) slang of the generation raised by the internet. But the internet didn't exist yet. Neither did IPods or cell phones or color TV. But she knew they existed at some point. She had one of each. She knew who will be of importance and who will leave an impact on the world, even possibly in the near future. But how she could be sure, she can't be. This all could be some weird dream now or the remains of that terrible nightmare. After all, she wasn't even sure if John Lennon was a real person.

That was it. It was just the nightmare she had. Some fucked up story created by her drugged out subconscious. She probably just smoked some bad pot or popped a few too many pills. She was still on a high, that's why she was questioning life and existence itself. This happened all the time; that she was 100% sure of.

So with that to hold onto, Sarah got out of bed and changed out of her pajamas and into some actual clothes. A light beige pencil skirt and a matching semi-low cut blazer with short sleeves and a lime green shirt underneath it. She put on a pair of while heels and while applying her makeup, a strange feeling crept over her. She put down her eye liner and really looked at the outfit she picked out. Did she always feel this… uncomfortable in heels and a skirt? Wouldn't it feel better to put on something a bit more fitting, like blue jeans? And something that didn't pinch her feet, like a pair of worn out sneakers?

Sarah violently shook her head to clear the thoughts. How ridiculous would that be? What would people say if she was seen dressing like a boy? No, she would never. Her mother would have her head. She finished applying her makeup, a bit lighter today than usual, and fixing her hair in her signature bouffant style the other girls in town could never get just right, but she mastered with ease. She left her room and saw her mother dancing along to her overly used Frank Sinatra record while cooking breakfast. Sarah smiled to herself. Her mother played that record so much; it skipped nearly ever 30 seconds and repeated in at least 4 spots on either side. She was saving up her money so she could buy her mother a new record so she could abuse that one with love too.

"Ah, there you are! Tired little thing, aren't you?" her mother called out in a pleasant, yet slightly gravely, tone. The years have gotten to her body, but not her spirit. Sarah admired her for that. She sat down at the broken wood table standing on only three legs now and leaning against the window sill.

"I felt today was a good a day as any to sleep in," Sarah replied as the let the smell of eggs and meat fill her nostrils and the chorus of birds enter her ears. It was only 10 o'clock, but when you need to run in such piss-poor condition as this one, every hour counts.

"Well, can't blame you can I? I wish I could sleep in. Hell, I wish I could go to some far off island, smaller than this one and sip coconut juice from its shell!" Sarah and her mother laughed loudly.

"Spend the whole day lounging on the beach, not worrying about when it's gonna rain," Sarah added to the fantasy.

"Hoping a young beach boy would stroll past," her mother murmured, though Sarah heard. It made her skin crawl every so slightly. Sarah heard the needle skid on the end of the record.

"Oh, the vinyl's done! I'll get it. Any requests?" Sarah asked.

"Whatever you want dear," her mother replied, putting the food on two chipped plates. Sarah got up and dug through the milk cart of limited records. They only owned about 14, but they were all of their favorite musicians and groups; Dusty Springfield, Elvis Presley, the Supremes, Buddy Holly. But as she pulled out her favorite Elvis record and put the needle down on the black vinyl disk, his voice echoed out of the speakers and she got the impression it wasn't all that great anymore. It was still good music, but it felt as if the lyrics and the tune was missing something. Did she always feel like this?

She rubbed her eyes quickly, not to let her mother see. She was still high, is all. Get some food in her stomach and fresh air in her lungs and she'd be fine. She returned to the table where her mother was already eating her breakfast.

"So what's the itinerary for today mum?" Sarah asked as she cut a piece of the ham with her fork and popped it in her mouth.

"Got to go to work at noon darling, then coming back around 10 tonight. I want you to go shopping today for me. I wrote down all we need." She pointed to the cork board filled with notices and reminders. On top was a little list of things to buy at the market.

"I can do that," Sarah replied. They ate their meal in a comfortable silence until something popped into Sarah's mind. It wasn't the most pleasant thing, but her mother needed to know nonetheless. "Mum?" Her mother looked up from her coffee cup. "I got that job at the record store." Her news hung in the air for a moment.

The two talked about it, and fought about it, for the entire final three months of her senior year. Sarah convinced her mother that they couldn't spend the money they didn't have on a college education. She was much more content going to work and helping her mother pay their bills and keep the home halfway decent. Her mother had different views. She wanted more for her daughter and was convinced that going to school would open up so many more doors. That was a lie and they both knew it. The difference was Sarah's mother didn't want to admit it. So after many long arguments, they agreed that Sarah would not go to college and in fact stay home and get a job to help support her mother. She started applying for jobs rather than colleges the day after her graduation. It took two months but she finally found a good paying job at a popular record store. It paid £4 an hour, almost half of what her mother made at the factory she worked at.

Sarah's mother was not pleased with this news. It just made it all so much more real. They were worse off than she would ever admit to her daughter. She couldn't even afford to support them both on her own. She was taking her daughter's life away from her and it didn't seem like Sarah cared. Or at least, she didn't understand what she was doing. She took her and her daughter's empty plates and quickly went to work washing them.

"It's a beautiful day today," she said changing the subject. "You should go outside. Spend the day out."

"No, I've got things to do. My chores-"

"They'll be here when you get back," she interrupted. "It's perfect outside today. You should spend it at the park, in the fields, walk down the old railroad. Just do something!" She put down the dishes with a clattering splash. "I don't want you stuck inside." Sarah looked at her mother. She was in such pain all the time. She walked up behind her and hugged her waist the way she did when she was little and afraid.

"Okay mum. I'll go out today." She kissed the top of her mother's head and went to get her purse from her room. "I'll be back soon, I can't stay out too long." Her mother sighed.

"I know." Sarah stood with one hand on the door, staring at her mother. She looked down into the dark water of the sink, thinking over where her life went wrong. It broke Sarah's heart. She left just then just so she wouldn't start crying.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I got actual attention on this story. Wow, I'm impressed with myself. =) On top of thanking the people that commented on my last chapter, it was brought to my attention that it's not a good idea to put a story's life on how many comments it gets. I agree, I don't usually do that, but as of this moment I am a senior in high school with only semester classes and final projects due in each of them. Now that the second chapter of this is out, I'll probably not scrap this idea. But if no one shows an interest, it will go on an extended break either until my finals are done or life settles down. I'm far too busy to sit and write, no matter how much I want to. Right now, I only can if someone wants me to. That's all I meant. ;) So without further adieu, CHAPTER TWO!**

She was at least right. It was a beautiful day today. It wasn't blistering hot out for a July day and the sky was spotted with fluffy white clouds. It was an absolute perfect day and Sarah just wanted to spend it walking and enjoying the sun's warmth kissing her skin.

She walked over to the flower field that she used to run to as a child. It was scattered with wild flowers and it still smelled like happiness and tranquility. She picked a few flowers and placed them in her hair. The pollen stuck in her light brown strands. She inhaled their sent, making her feel lightheaded but in a very good way. It wasn't like smoking a joint; it felt more pure and better. It was also safer. She knew one of these days her drug usage would land her in trouble, but for now a puff or a pop every now and again wasn't going to kill her.

After a while of just enjoying nature, she continued on her way back into town. As she walked down a usually busy street, something caught her eye. She turned to look at the street sign. It looked absolutely no different than any other day she passed it, a while sign with black lettering and a black border. But she was inspired by it somehow. She set off back home quickly and got her pad, pencils and colored charcoal from her room. She rushed back to the street sign and crossed the street to gaze at it from farther away. She looked up and down the block. It was strange that not a single car or person at all was passing her. It was usually a very active street. But, Sarah thought to herself, at least there were fewer distractions in her way. She sat down on the dirty walkway, double checking to make sure no one was going to see her act so strangely.

She first recreated the sign exactly. It was just black-and-white with 'City of Liverpool' written at the top in red and a little red L18 next to the lettering. She redrew the outline but added some more color to it. The brick wall behind the sign was drawn with vines and ivy growing through it, wrapping around the sign. She started over again, not getting the results wanted. It had to be brighter, more vibrant colors. She picked up the brightest piece of red charcoal she had and began again. Now the sign was bright red with brighter yellow lettering and a more curving outline, rather than the strict boxed outline of the actual sign. She drew the brick wall behind it in a rainbow of every color she had. The contrast in texture between the pencils and charcoal added dine shadowing. She continued on with her detailing, but it wasn't quite right yet. She looked back up to the real sign. Her eyes trained up to the sky, admiring how very blue it was. It was a happy kind of blue, not sad like everyone thought of. Then it hit her: her drawing needed a bright blue sky. She grabbed the most vibrant blue pencil she had and started to cover the top of her page in that color.

With a few touch-ups, she blew off the access colored dust and looked at her piece. She smiled brightly. It embodied everything good she knew of. She didn't have a lot of good things to hold onto nowadays. But her drawings, they were one of them. This one especially. _Penny Lane,_ Sarah thought._ Underneath a blue suburban sky. _

"Hey, you okay down there?" A voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Sarah looked up to see a boy, not much older than her looking down on her with a curious gaze. She blushed instantly from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I'll be on me way," she mumbled, gathering her belonging in a hazed.

"Now calm down. I'm not saying anything about it. If you were doing something important, I'm not one to stop you." Sarah was already standing with her pad and colors. She looked at the boy. He had very nice eyes, a sweet chocolate brown. His hair was brown also and in a well managed Teddy Boy cut. He was obviously a rocker. He wore a white shirt and tan pants with a pair of All Stars. His face was very well rounded and cut. He was a very good looking boy. She blushed slightly more.

"No, I wasn't- I'm done. I was just-" She pointed to her pad. "Just drawing." He looked down to her covered sketches and smiled.

"You draw?" he asked. She couldn't form words well. That was her problem with cute boys. She got very tongue-tied.

"Well… not well. Only doodle really."

"You mind if I take a look?" he asked politely. Sarah hesitated; did she really want some stranger looking at her most private drawings? They embodied her most private thoughts and feelings. She looked back at the boy. But, _oh. _He was very dreamy.

She handed him her sketch pad as he began flipping through her pictures. She watched his face for any signs of dissatisfaction, but as he kept flipping on his smile only grew wider.

"Wow," he gasped. "These are good." Sarah smiled to herself. "Really good actually." He handed her pad back. "I've only seen art like that in museums."

"Thank you. I've never gotten a complement like that before." Sarah never considered her work all that great before. She constantly submitted her pieces in contests and always lost. She figured because no one wanted them, she was bad.

He smiled brightly to her and extended his hand. "I'm Paul."

_Paul. _

Sarah became lightheaded all of a sudden and almost lost her balance. Paul leaned out and caught her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied woozily. "It's just the heat, is all." She wondered how long these drugs would keep giving her spouts of dizziness. She decided never to get pot from that dealer again. Just in case. Paul helped her up and their eyes met. Sarah was overcome by the craziest and slightly scary feeling she ever felt before and it probably didn't have a name. It felt like dread and concern and a knowing of something, but of what she couldn't say.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Paul inquired with a laugh in his voice.

"Oh. It's just, um-" _Quick Sarah, think up a lie. _"You don't really look like a Paul." She laughed, knowing that was the worst lie in the history of the world. But nevertheless, Paul chuckled.

"Well, my name isn't really Paul. It's James but all me friends call me Paul." His smile was so lively it was almost contagious. Sarah caught a large grin too.

"They call _me_ Sarah." He took her hand and shook it in a very friendly manner. Sarah laughed out loud. His hands were quite soft and gentle. It was then that she realized Paul was still holding her up. It didn't seem that Paul realized it though. "…Paul?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you still holding me like a babe?" His expression was like she said he was naked. He jumped back, an incredibly embarrassed look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said bashfully. Sarah laughed heartily.

"It's fine," she said. "I'd be bad if you weren't so dreamy." Her smile jumped off her face. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. Paul however smirked, probably at himself for being so good looking.

"Well then," Paul began with an air of gentlemanly around him and extending his crooked arm, "would you accompany this dreamy fellow back to his home for some tea?" His smile was friendly and genuine, making Sarah feel totally confident in taking this new stranger's arm and walked off with him to his house.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I made a slight change to the story. Nothing that's worth going back and re-reading it, just changed Sarah's last name. Instead of Mathews, it's now Walker. I figured with all the Beatles references I'm putting in this story, I might as well add some Who in there too. "It's a boy Mrs. Walker / It's a boy!" ...Tommy? ...Anyone? ...Wow, I listen to really old music. O_o  
Okay then, chapter 3!  
Oh! And sorry the ending might suck a bit. I didn't have time to proof read this time. Next one will make up for it, I promise. ;)**

"So does James Paul come with a surname?" Sarah asked, curious to get some more information out of this boy that tickled her fancy. _Is he Irish? _she thought to herself.

"McCartney," he replied. Sarah beamed internally. She had a feeling. "You did, did you?" Sarah looked up. She said that out loud too. She really had to get a better grip on herself, something important might slip out.

"You have too pale of skin not to be," was her response, said with a bright smile that matched the sunny day.

"And what about you? What's your surname?" Paul inquired.

"Walker," Sarah responded.

"Ah, full blue blood?" Paul said with a mock and a wink. Sarah giggled, blushed and realized… was Paul flirting with her? She never got flirted with. She blushed deeply, trying to hide it from her new friend. Paul noticed, of course he did, and it only egged him on to make her blush more. "So you've got the talent of drawing. Do you have anymore talents I should know about?" he asked lightly.

"I'm a halfway decent guitar player. And I've been playing the violin since 6. Oh, and I'm teaching myself the drums as well as I can," Sarah said with confidence.

"I'm impressed. There aren't many girls I know that can even read music, let alone play anything." He looked her up and down with a funny look in his eye. "Do you sing?" Sarah blurted out a laugh.

"Not in front of people! But my mirror does say that I have a lovely voice." She and Paul shared a laugh.

"Have you ever thought of…" Paul began, but trailed off. Sarah waited a moment.

"Thought of what?" Paul floundered a bit, but replied a simple, "Nothing." They continued on in a slightly tenser, awkward silence. They turned onto Paul's street and approached his house.

"Well… this is my house," he stated, uneasy about what to do next. He was in shock of himself. Paul McCartney did not become tongue-tied. He was the master at flirtatious looks and charisma. He was the bloke every bird wanted. Why was he stuttering now? He didn't have to worry for too long as Sarah took control of the situation.

"So how about that tea?" Paul chuckled. He noticed he was doing a lot of that around her. Of course he was, she was a beautiful girl who was so very different from all the other birds he knew. He opened his front door for her and gestured in, in a comically, overly dramatic fashion. Sarah laughed lightly and entered.

Paul's home was much nicer then her own. Not in the sense that it was larger or neater or filled with more extravagant furnishings. It was warmer, filled with more love than her little flat she shared with her mother. Sarah could imagine sitting on the floor at night, listening to the radio with a full family. Her, her mother…. Maybe even a father?

"How about we go up to my room? My brother has a guitar you could use. We could jam for a while," Paul suggested, breaking Sarah from her thoughts. She smiled at him.

"Okay then." They ascended the stairs into Paul's small, simple room. He entered his room behind her holding an acoustic Hofner guitar. As he handed it to Sarah and got his own guitar, she noticed the strings were going from left to right, not right to left. _Darn, _she thought. _It's a righty. _She sighed slightly and held it upside down. She wasn't skilled at playing an instrument she hasn't even mastered yet upside down, but she was determined to make it work. When Paul turned around with his guitar in hand, he laughed at Sarah's attempt at holding the instrument.

"You've got that thing upside down, you know."

"I know," she said feeling slightly embarrassed. He must think of her as a fool right now. "I'm left-handed. I have to hold it like this." Paul's amused expression switched to one of curiosity, his head crooked slightly to the side. He looked at her as if she spoke in a foreign language. "What?" she asked. A small smile spread across his face.

He took the small guitar from her hands, handed her his and took the only other guitar in the room. Sarah examined the new guitar. The strings went from left to right.

"You're left-handed too?" Paul asked, sitting on his bed. He patted next to him, signaling for Sarah to sit next to him.

"This is a sign, Paul McCartney." Sarah said jokingly as she took her seat.

"Really? A sign about what?"

"We were supposed to meet. I think this was supposed to happen. We get along too well for this not to be fate."

"Fate? Do you really believe in that stuff?" Paul asked as he tuned up his guitar. With only four strings. _Oh_, Sarah realized_, it's a bass guitar_.

"I think life is too grand for everything to be random. There's a plan we all have laid out for us, but life is so big and difficult to navigate, little signs are put in place to tell us what to do or where to go. I'm always on the look out for those signs. I think meeting you was a sign. Sooner or later, another one will come up and I'll take advantage of it."

"Do you believe in God?" Paul asked carefully, never really delving into religion. Sarah took a minute to think about that. She finally smiled and stated: "Maybe he's the one that places the signs," as she strummed away at the guitar. Paul smiled at her. He liked that answer.

For the next 45 minutes, they played their guitars with Paul teaching Sarah some new tricks and Sarah trying to explain to Paul how difficult the violin really is:

"It's just a small guitar you play on your shoulder, right?"

"Without any frets."

"How do you know where the chords are without frets?"

"That's what makes it so hard!"

Eventually, they ended up putting the guitars down and just started talking. Their discussions ranged from shallow topics like their favorite school subjects to much deeper conversations, like the differences between right and wrong and how they vary from person to person. Sarah never felt so stimulated by someone before. She didn't know she had all these opinions until she started talking about them. She didn't know it, but Paul felt the same way. The only person who he ever went on tangents with was John.

In the middle of a rather inappropriate joke, the pair heard the door open.

"Paulie! We're back!" A deep, booming voice echoed through the small house. Paul blushed slightly from the embarrassing pet name, especially in front of Sarah. Sarah, however, just found it endearing. The sound of someone ascending the stairs carried into the boy's small room. In the doorway stood a younger boy, no more than a few years, who looked almost exactly like Paul, and almost as attractive too. His gazed danced from both Paul and the girl sitting on Paul's bed. Alone in an empty house. His face grew a malicious smile. Paul was on top of his plan.

"Don't you dare Michael," Paul began, placing his bass down carefully, never letting his eyes leave his brother.

"Hey dad, Paulie brought a little bird home and tied her up in his room." With that sentence yelled out for the whole house to hear, Mike dashed back downstairs as Paul leaped from his bed trying to tackle Mike to the floor.

"_You little shit!_" Paul hissed out not loud enough for anyone outside of his room to hear. He didn't want to get in more trouble with his dad.

"James Paul McCartney! Come here this instant!" Paul shut his eyes tight, wishing away his trouble. He rose from the floor and motioned for Sarah to stay in his room. Paul descended the stairs to come face-to-face with his strict, and at the moment very upset, father. "You brought a girl over?" he asked in a threatening voice. Paul cringed; he hated getting in trouble.

"Yes sir, but we weren't doing anything. I was teaching her some new tricks on the guitar," Paul said meekly.

"Is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?" his father asked. Paul blushed. His father's attention was pulled from his son to the stairs. Paul turned around and saw Sarah standing halfway down the staircase.

"There really is no reason to be upset with Paul. We weren't doing anything inappropriate," she explained. Paul's father smiled slightly. Sarah knew that smile. It was her secret skill that made her skin crawl. She unfortunately learned it from a very young age.

"Even if that is true," he began, "Paul knows very well about the house rules: No girls in his room alone."

"Well, Mr. McCartney-"

"You can call me Jim," he said, extending his hand. She took it while feeling sick to her stomach. She hated doing this, but sometimes it had to be done. Flirting was a part of her life.

"Jim," she said in a very light, very sweet tone. "I can give you my word that we did nothing but play some guitar and talk. Nothing that we wouldn't do in front of you." Her last statement had no undertone to it at all, but said the right way and in the correct light, it could be interpreted as such. Jim obviously interpreted it the way he wanted to; forgetting the girl he was talking to was just barely overage but still far too young for him. A lot of people seemed to forget Sarah was only eighteen, and not even so for that long. She held herself in a way which was similar to that of a mature woman.

Sarah's cursed talent was putting on a personality, that of either suave maturity or intense innocence, that attracted the opposite gender. Even when she wasn't trying, young boys and older men were drawn to her beauty and charm. It was the older men she had always had a deep fear of.

Jim however, seemed to catch himself before it was too late. Embarrassment and a good portion of shame brought the steadfast father to a blushing, bumbling fool. "Well… so long as you and Paul were behaving… I'll let it go…" A moment of awkward silence passed before he turned and left, Mike trailing after him, yelling why Paul wasn't getting in trouble. Sarah sighed a sigh of relief. That could have gone by much worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN- Super quick: LOVE to all the people that read especially my best friend Amanda whom is probably the first one to read this seeing as she's been begging me all week to get this chapter out. ;) And if this chapter seems a bit slow, well... that's because it is. Slight writers block. Got over it relatively quickly. We meet a special man next chapter! =D No, it's not John but we all know and love him. ;)  
Okay then... chapter 4. READ ON!**

"I was there," Paul said with disbelief on his face. "I heard exactly what you said and I don't believe you got me off scot-free. I should be grounded right now and swearing never to make contact with you again by his law." Sarah laughed off her nerves.

"Upstairs, Paul. I'll tell you all about it." They ventured back into Paul's room without the fear of getting in trouble over it. The two sat on Paul's bed. "Ever since I was quite young, even an infant me mum tells me, I've attracted boys like a magnet. They would always come up to me pram and coo me. It was the strangest thing she said. So as I got older…" she hesitated. She had to phrase this right. "I learned how to flirt very quickly. I can pretty much wrap a man around my finger in an instant."

Paul chuckled. "I don't believe you. Like some super power? You can make lads go weak in the knees?"

"Did I make you breathy when we met?" she said with confidence. She wasn't blind; she saw her magic being worked on Paul. He ducked his eyes and reddened a bit. "See? I bet you're the real charmer Paul McCartney. Never had a problem getting a bird in your life. Am I really the first girl that ever made you nervous?"

"Not nervous," Paul said. "Just… jittery."

"You've got the bad case of the butterflies, huh?" Paul nodded, still quite embarrassed. It's not the manliest thing to admit to a girl you're smitten over her. Sarah took this as a chance to try something new: actually let a boy in for the first time. "It's okay. I've got them too." Paul looked up at Sarah. She knew her face was red but she did little to hide it. She fancied Paul more than she would admit, but that was a thought for another time.

Paul broke the silence first. "So… you've got the lads all over you. I bet your old man has a thing or two to say about that," Paul said jokingly. Sarah's face fell. She wasn't amused.

"He's not with us anymore," she said rather monotone. "It's just me and me mum."

"Oh." Paul became grave serious. "I'm so sorry. I know what it's like to lose a parent. Me mum died of cancer." In retrospect, it wasn't the perfect time to burst out laughing, but Sarah couldn't contain herself. Paul was shocked.

"He's not dead! That bastard, I wish he was though!"

"Wait, so he's just gone?"

"Gone, gone for good I hope! It's me and mum for about three years now on our own. Not the best time but anything is better than with him around!"

"What did he do?" Paul asked. Sarah remained quiet for a moment. She remembered she still didn't know Paul all that well. They just met a few hours ago. And to tell a near stranger about your life story isn't something that is considered normal. _Still, _she wondered to herself, _how sweet would it feel to finally tell someone? _

"He beat me mum," she said. "He was vicious. The sounds of her screams and his yelling put me to sleep as a child more times than I can count. He hated her, absolutely hated her. Hated being married to her, hated living with her. But the wonderful woman my mother is, she still loved him. She married him for love. He needed a punching bag and a free ride." Paul sat in silence. "There are some pretty wicked people out there, Paul."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know-"

"And you would have had no reason to know. No one knew. We hide things away very easily. Believe it or not, it's easy to keep people from knowing your demons." That was they can never help you get rid of them.

The two sat in silence, not knowing where to go from here. Paul figured if he asked one intrusive question already…

"Why did he stay then? If he hated your mum so much, why did he stay?" This question Sarah really didn't want to answer.

"He hated my mum…" She felt her throat burn with a tight heat and her eyes begin to sting. She looked Paul right in the eyes so that he would know. She could only say it once. "…but he _loved _me." Realization slowly dawned on Paul, but it was flooded with disgust and repulsion. He shook his head, convincing himself that he was reading her signs wrong. But as the tears broke over Sarah's eyes Paul pulled her to his chest and let her gently weep. It was the first time Sarah actually spoke and admitted to it. Her mother and her never spoke of it, just let the trauma disappear in the fog of the past. It never did completely. His face would still appear as a shadow in her darkest nightmares. He was long gone now, packed up one day and left leaving his daughter and wife high and dry. It would have been worse if he stayed though.

The relief she felt now that she was sharing her burden with someone else was enough to make her tears sweet. She relaxed with every sob, releasing a tension she didn't knew she had. It might have been there for years.

Paul raised her face cupped in his hands. He wiped away her tears with his thumb. He looked her right in her eyes.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I'm here. I'll never hurt you." She noticed his eyes. They weren't the chocolate brown they were earlier the day. They were a hint darker with a deep blue bordering the iris. How could she overlook such a beautiful color? Her stomach twisted but she allowed it. It felt nice to know there was at least one boy out there that wasn't under her trance. There was a tiny little voice in her mind that asked how much he cared, but Sarah pushed that thought far back. She wasn't getting anymore emotional today than she already did.

"Can I ask one more thing?" Paul asked very unsure of himself or the response. Sarah nodded. "Did he… I mean, are you still a…" His question trailed off when he noticed Sarah's unreadable expression. That was the one question she wouldn't answer.

"In all honesty, I don't think that's much of your business," she said shortly. Paul only nodded in agreement.

"I understand. I respect that." He didn't know if she was either embarrassed or ashamed of either losing her virginity or even still having it, but Paul figured that was one thing that wasn't important to know.

He rose from his bed, a smile placed carefully on his face. "Well, I don't know about you but I feel like this room is far too stuffy. It's still a beautiful day outside." Sarah laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing. He was being a wonderful friend and trying to make her feel better after a good cry. "Come on, I'll treat you to a pop and a burger." He gave her his hand which she took as they exited Paul's house, heading down to the town center.

The rest of their day together was filled with very simple enjoyment. Paul ended up buying Sarah some fish & chips and a chocolate malt instead and Sarah snatched him a bag of candy from a street vender. Laughs and joy was exchanged and they both broke each other's stereotypes; boys can be interested in more than sex and girls are more than a pretty face.

In both their opinions, the sun started to set a bit too early. The ice cream in their hands was melting steadily as they passed the common red gates that opened to an abandoned park. It's funny, they were so familiar of childhood but so old and rotten it gave off an uneasy and slightly disturbing feeling.

"So I guess it's time to take you home?" Paul said with very little excitement of ending the date. _…Day,_ Paul thought to himself

"You'll walk me home too? What a gentleman," Sarah teased. As their journey around town came to an end at the door of Sarah's apartment building, she noticed that she rarely ever let go of Paul's hand. Actually, she did notice and purposefully said nothing in fear of Paul becoming embarrassed and removing it. Not surprisingly, unbeknownst to Sarah Paul was doing the same thing. As if knowing to, they both let go of their hands.

"I had a great time Paul. I'm real happy I met you," Sarah said. She was slightly nervous for the part that came at the end of the date. _…Day,_ Sarah corrected herself. But it seemed that Paul had it all planned out in his clever mind.

"As am I. And you know where I live. Don't be a stranger. Anytime you need anything just come see me." He gave her a sweet and loving smile. He reached for her hand once more and pulled it to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, bowing slightly as he did, showing off his wonderful puppy dog eyes staring up at her. They were a soft blue-green-gray, not a trace of brown in them anymore.

Sarah blushed harder than she did the entire day. She tried to hide it but was almost hypnotized by Paul's pure charm. He smiled and released her hand only to pull her into a hug where he whispered in her ear: "I'll see you later." With that, he let her go, turned and began to walk back home. Sarah stood there with her mouth in a small 'o'. She couldn't see but Paul was smirking like he'd just won the most important fight of his life. And he might just have.

Sarah eventually got herself together and entered her dark little home. Her mother wasn't home yet and probably wouldn't be for a couple more hours. She tidied up as much as she could, washed whatever plates were left in the sink and put a few odds and ends away. She really was just restless so she took a Buddy Holly record and marched into her room. She put it on her very small, very cheap turntable and pulled out her canvas and paints. She sat on the edge of her bed and began to draw a person. Then she scrapped her idea and started to draw a face. She scrapped that and started to draw a pair of eyes. She got very frustrated and began to draw only one eye. She tried to focus all her attention on getting the colors right. But no matter how hard she tried she couldn't find the right shading or right mixture of blue and green and brown to create those hazel eyes that were engraved in her mind.

She yawned and looked over to her alarm clock on her bedside. It was 10:30. She didn't realize she spent so much time drawing. She packed her gear up and checked her mother's room. Her bed was occupied. She must have missed her mother's entrance. Either way, Sarah changed out of her day clothes and put on a nightgown and tried to sleep. Her mind was still buzzing about a certain boy with two names. A certain boy that made her cry in the best possible way. A boy that had eyes that changed color. It was magical.

_Paul is magical,_ was Sarah's last thought before she drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: UGH! I feel like I'm cheating you all. :( My chapters are usually short, but this one is REALLY short! I barely broke one page on Word. I'm sorry but I did my best. Oh, and for some reason there's another 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps' reference in this chapter. I'm not trying to force that song down your throat or anything, it is a great song. I don't know why I keeps coming up like that. :/ - *My pondering face* Okay, so next chapter will be better. MUCH better! I promise! ;)**

The end of the week called for her first day of work. While searching for jobs Sarah figured that working with music would be as fun as work at all would ever be. She also might get a discount on some records and if not… well, pocketing a few 45s wouldn't be too bad so long as she didn't get caught.

At noon on that Saturday, Sarah got dressed in her nicest outfit, a powder blue dress and matching headband, and headed down to the small record store. Her boss was out when she got there, so she began stocking the new shipments of vinyl. She admired their covers. It was filled with new releases from various artists, all American rock-and-rollers. Sarah was very tempted to roll over the jazz that was filling the store now and hear what new songs her favorite singers made for her. But Mr. Epstein had a very strict rule: No playing new material. He didn't want to be the one to spoil his customers with the songs they were supposed to hear on their own. Sarah admired him for that. He seemed like a very caring man.

Once she was done, she began sweeping up the floor. There were some dust bunnies behind a stack of boxes that no one seem to bother with for some time. She heard the door open with a little jingle and saw her boss enter. He wore a suit and styled back hair, just like the day of her interview. He always looked very professional. She put the broom back and walked up to him.

"Mr. Epstein, I finished unpacking all the new records," she said with a smile. Mr. Epstein smiled at her back, but it was a much harder smile.

"Did you catalogue them?" he asked.

"Yes, sir." He smiled a bit warmer this time.

"Good. Can you sweep up the floor by those boxes? I noticed it's getting a bit dirty."

"I already did sir," Sarah replied. Mr. Epstein looked genuinely shocked, like no one ever did what he asked before.

"Did anyone tell you to?" he asked.

"No sir. I just thought you might appreciate a clean shop." She flashed one of her award-winning smiles which she saved for sucking up. This one had just a pinch of genuineness in it. Mr. Epstein looked rather touched for some reason.

"Thank you very much." He looked at Sarah in a certain way that made her very happy. It was the way that… well, maybe the way a father _should _look at a daughter; filled with pride and approval. "I made a good choice hiring you Miss Walker. Keep up the good work." Sarah beamed and bounced off back to work.

For the next few hours, her eyes kept drifting to the new Crickets album. She checked the price a thousand times and it never changed. It was still too much money for her to afford at the time. Sarah had two choices: she could either wait until she got her first paycheck in two weeks time and listen to all the songs on the radio until they got old, or…

Sarah looked around. Mr. Epstein was very engulfed in some paper work and all the other employees were busy helping customers. Sarah slipped away to get her extra-large handbag. She stood with the record in her hand for a long while. Mr. Epstein was being so kind to her and he really liked her. She liked him as a boss too. So would she really steal from him? She had no other reason to do it other than she really wanted that record.

And that's what ended up winning out. She put the record in her bag, put her bag in her cupboard and went back to work. The whole rest of the day she let her guilt play over her. Her conscience screamed at her and she felt incredibly bad about betraying Mr. Epstein already.

That still wasn't enough to stop her from walking out of the store at the end of the day with the record in her bag.


	6. Chapter 6

Guess who we meet today? ;)

* * *

As the summer dragged on, Sarah and Paul spent more time together, going where ever Liverpool had to offer. But more and more Paul had to cut the day short or reschedule their dates that neither of them actually considered dates. Because they weren't even going steady. Paul said that his best mate was hammering them with band practice almost every week now. He kept mentioning his band to her and now Sarah's curiosity was peaking.

"What band is this anyway? Are you any good?" Sarah asked over a shared slice of cherry pie at a local diner.

"Any good? We're incredible! A huge hit down at the Cavern," Paul said with much confidence.

"The Cavern? Never heard of it," said Sarah taking a bite of the pie.

"It's this hot night club we get booked at a lot. We're famous there," Paul said taking a sip of his drink. "And soon we're gonna be famous everywhere." He winked at Sarah and she laughed.

"Keep dreaming Paul, keep dreaming," she teased. He smiled back at her and glanced at the clock hanging on the wall.

"Oh damn! I completely lost track of time! Practice starts in 10 minutes!" Paul jumped up from the booth, tossed some money on the table and dashed to the door. He turned only when he realized he left Sarah standing there. "I'm so sorry, that was rude of me. But I have to get going."

"Can I come with you?" Sarah asked hastily. "Would your mates mind if I sat in on a band practice?" Paul took a moment to think of their reaction and then smiled brightly.

"That sounds absolutely brilliant!" Paul exclaimed. He busted out the door with Sarah closely behind.

"Hey, wait! I forgot to ask!" she called out as she ran after Paul. "What's your band's name?" Paul stopped, turned and took her hand with a look that was positively electric. His eyes were bright and full of energy.

"The Beatles."

* * *

They entered the back of a club that Paul said was the Jacaranda Club. It was owned by their manager. Paul mentioned that it was because of him that his band got booked to perform in Hamburg, Germany. At that fact, Sarah's eyes widened. Hamburg was not a place that she would want to go in her lifetime.

In the back of the club was a large, relatively empty and plain room filled with old boxes, amps and various instruments. It was so acoustically alive it practically had its own heartbeat. It was probably used as a practice room for the band, and in front of her were three boys sitting on top of a set of amplifiers, all relatively the same age as Paul. They were all dressed in blue jeans and leather jackets, a very strong contrast to Paul's put-together good boy look. In his rush to get to practice on time, he didn't have a chance to change out of his collar shirt.

Sarah closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A very sudden wave crashed over her mind. It was hard to think or understand. It was a dizzy feeling not different from how she felt when she met Paul, but much more broad. Her whole body felt light. It actually felt like she might pass out. She thought that it was just the drugs from the night before, but now the concern that she might be sick crawled into her mind.

Paul tapped her. "Are you okay?" She nodded.

"Just a little lightheaded is all. I'm fine." Paul nodded, only half believing her.

"What're you wearing there Macca? You look like a fucking mod!" one of the boys yelled out to him. The others laughed along with him, bottles of beer in one hand, cigarettes in the other.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," Paul said dryly. "I was in a rush to get here and I didn't have time to change me clothes."

"Is she the reason why?" another one said, gesturing to Sarah. The other two looked behind Paul to see the girl with wide eyes and small smirks growing on all three of their faces. They looked at her like a pack of wild dogs would look at a slab of meat. Sarah's hand grazed Paul's ever so carefully. She tried to pretend that it didn't mean everything, but it actually meant everything. So long as Paul was with her she was safe. And with that fact constant in her mind, she put on her special smile and introduced herself to Paul's bandmates.

"And I'm a pretty damn good reason if I do say so myself," Sarah replied. She noticed the boy with styled back auburn hair faltered his gaze. He defiantly didn't expect some bird Paul brought in to have so much sass. He was impressed, thinking that she could hold her own well. Paul however was quite as impressed. A pea-sized drop of jealously made him wrap his arm friendly (and slightly protective) around Sarah's shoulders.

"Lads, this is me friend Sarah Walker. She asked if she could sit in on a practice."

"You mean a friend that's a girl?" one of the boys asked with a wink and immediately laughed at his own assumptions.

"Don't go there George," Paul warned. He raised his hands in defense and took a drag of his cigarette.

"So you going to introduce us?" Paul rolled his eyes and took Sarah's hand, leading her first to George.

"Sarah, George Harrison, our lead guitarist and the baby of the group," Paul said.

"Hey! I'm only a year and a half younger than you Paul," George retorted.

"Yeah, and you're the reason we got kicked out of Germany and I had to find me way back to Liverpool by myself!" the auburn haired boy yelled, but he had a smile on his face so he wasn't too sore about it. George blew off the comment and turned his attention back to Sarah. He gave her a smoldering glaze, inhaled his smoke and exhaled it. His look was one of mystery. It was actually intriguing. It made him very attractive.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said very coolly. It was obvious what he was going for but Sarah just couldn't take him seriously. There was something about him that was just so loving and warm that it melted away his ice cool physique. Sarah let her smile slip and a giggle escaped her lips. When George realized he wasn't fooling anyone, he let it go, releasing a chuckle and a real smile. He looked even better when he smiled. He extended his hand in an honest way. "George Harrison. Nice to meet you." She took his hand.

"It's nice to be met," she said. She wanted to pull him into a hug and let him protect her. That was the vibe she got from George; he seemed like a very protective person, someone that would want to keep you safe. But hugging someone you just met wasn't very normal, so she let it go.

"This is Pete Best, out drummer," Paul said.

"Hey," Pete said casually.

"Hey," Sarah replied back just as unenthusiastic. She didn't like looking at Pete. She didn't really like Pete at all. He didn't have to say anything to her; he just gave her a wrong feeling deep down. He wasn't right somehow.

She shook that feeling off too, her head beginning to pound slightly. A headache was forming and her dizziness traveled all the way to her stomach. She felt off, she felt weird. But it wasn't a bad feeling, just an unpleasant one. She swallowed her misery. Maybe she'd ask Paul to take her home later.

She turned her attention to the last boy; the one with auburn hair that drew her attention in the moment she walked into the room, the one that liked to make snarky comments, the one that called Paul 'Macca'. The smile he gave her wasn't _funny_ like the others, it was fun. It made Sarah almost laugh out loud. His wonderful personality was contagious. Paul smiled too.

"And last but absolutely never least," he joked. "Me best mate in the whole world-"

"Paulie was mine long before you showed up and he'll be mine way after you've gone," he said, getting up from the amp he was sitting on. It wasn't a threat at all, more like a fact and Sarah instantly respected that fact. A laugh was shared by all. Paul walked up to his side and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Sarah," Paul said proudly as Sarah reached for the boy's extended hand, "meet John Lennon."

_John Lennon._

Sarah's smile was wiped off her face instantly. "No," she said softly, air escaping her body. It wasn't possible, was it?

_John Lennon. _

"Excuse me?" he replied, obviously confused by her reaction.

"I can't be." Her brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and total disbelief. John Lennon, that name was oh-so familiar.

_John Lennon._

It was the name from her dream all those weeks ago. She carried that name in the back of her mind, it popping up only in the middle of the night right before the darkness overtook her. That name watched over her as she slept, keeping no harm from touching her. She knew it. She knew him. She knew him outside of her dreams. Where did she know him from?

_John Ono Lennon._

A sharp pain struck her head. Actually, that was an understatement. It felt like someone took an inch wide metal rod and blasted it straight through her brain. It made her entire body go slack. Sarah screamed out in pain right before her legs gave out. She felt Paul catch her and barely heard the commotion of the boys trying to help. Their yells were drowned out by waves of noise. It didn't sound like anything in particular, just pure noise. It made her pained head even worse. Then everything went dark.

* * *

_It was dark, but so bright. She was standing in front of some scaffolding put up in front of a store of some sorts. She was on the outside of it, standing on the curb right by the street. Past the speeding cars stood a miraculous and stunningly beautiful building. Its tan walls carved details were amazing even from her distance. It held a set of black steel gates as an entrance to the building with matching post lanterns attached to either side on the walls, glowing with it's lit fire against the night. A night guard stood there with a few stray, aimless people._

'_Where am I?' It was a city, a very big city. The constant noise of cars racing down the streets and people yelling was all around her. It must have been very late at night but it was still noisy. The many streetlamps lit up the night like the sun would. She looked to her right and saw a very large area void of buildings and filled with trees and ponds in their place. It was a public park, but one so much bigger than Sarah had ever seen. The moon reflected off the water eerily. _

_None of these clues helped her figure out what was going on. Sarah thought about where she was before this or how she got here. She thought hard. Very hard. Nothing popped into her head except for the date. _

_It was December 8__th__ of… some year. _

_She didn't know where she was, what was going on with her or what year it was, but at least she knew the date._

'_December 8__th__… Why does that date keep coming up? What happened today that was so important?' _

_A dark limousine pulled up in front of the building. A man with baggy looking clothing, long hair and round glasses emerged. Behind him was a tall Asian woman with long black hair. Sarah watched the man intently. He was stopped by another man. He too wore glasses, had shorter, lighter hair with sideburns and dressed with a bit more care. He was quite round whereas the man from the limo was so thin, it was borderline unhealthy._

_The two talked for a brief moment and the man with the sideburns took out a piece of paper and a pen. The limo man took it, wrote something down and turned to walk towards the Asian woman. There were a few people who showed up, taking pictures. _

_None of this made sense, but as he began to walk away from the man with the sideburns Sarah was filled with hateand pain and sorrow and grief and fear. She wanted to run across the street and punch the round man, beat him until he bled. She wanted to push the skinny man away from him and hold him in her arms and take him away, far away from this city. She just didn't want to; she was going to do it. But before her feet could do what her brain was telling them to, before she could even move a muscle, before the man with the sideburns did anything, there was a flash of silent white light. The city went quiet. Sarah closed her eyes and once again, the world went black. _

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, Paul and his band mates were surrounding her, wide-eyed and terrified. Her head still hurt but at least she was aware of things now.

"Sarah, are you okay? What happened?" Paul asked with a frantic voice.

"Um…" Sarah thought. She'd tell the truth if she even knew it. But she didn't. So she made up another lie. "Migraines. I get them sometimes."

"Hey, me too!" John cheered. Everyone threw him a glare. No was not the time for John to be weird.

George and Paul tired to lift Sarah to her feet, but she gave way almost instantly. Paul caught her before she could hit the ground.

"I'll go get her some tea," Pete said, already on the move.

"No. Coffee," Sarah said hazily. Paul threw her a confused look.

"Won't the caffeine just rile you up?" he asked.

"No, I need something in my system. It'll calm me down, trust me." Paul wouldn't admit it at the time, but he did not like Sarah's answer. A drug like caffeine wasn't supposed to calm a person down. But considering her circumstance, he let it go. For now.

John leaned down to lift Sarah up from under her arms. If she fell again he'd be able to hold her up. She watched John intensively, large eyes marking his every move, his every facial change. All of a sudden he was the most interesting man in the world.

She did the most ridiculous thing she ever thought up and pretended to faint again. John pulled her into his chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. At this angle, she could safely hold him without anyone judging her.

It shook her down to her core, how after her episode she was so interested in John. But it wasn't a normal interest. She wanted to hold him and keep him safe and loved. She knew nothing of the person holding her but she loved him with all her heart. And that's why her fear was growing, slowly but surely she felt dread seep through her soul. There was a connection between her dream, her episode and John. Her gut was telling her that he was important for something. It was also telling her that he was in danger, but that feeling was far away. Strong, and definitely there but far enough away to keep it out of her mind for a while. Right now, she just didn't want to let go of John.

Pete came back with a cup of coffee. Sarah drank it down burning her throat in the process, but the caffeine worked its way into her blood. That artificial feeling was just what she needed. She leaned back into John's lap drinking and trying to calm her racing mind and heart. John toyed with her up-done hair.

"Are you okay now?" George asked. Sarah nodded carefully.

"Yeah, I just feel a little…" She tried to put of descriptive word on it. "…freaky." A poor choice in words, she felt. But at least it worked.

"Do you need me to take you home?" Paul asked.

"No, I'm fine now. It was nothing really."

"I don't think it was just nothing," John said. Sarah turned around to look on him. "You went stark white and were out cold. That's a pretty bad migraine." It was strange; she thought he was giving her a look of knowledge, like he knew Sarah wasn't telling the whole truth.

_Who is this man? _Sarah thought to herself.

"I… I won't take Paul away from band practice," she said with a stutter. Her clouded and confused mind was making it hard to speak. John laughed brusquely.

"It's my band and I'm telling Paul to take you home." John helped Sarah up and handed her over to Paul who wrapped his arms around her carefully.

"You sure you okay?" Paul whispered in her ear. She hummed a confirmation. She could feel Paul's breath on her neck. She enjoyed it. "I'll be back soon, don't wait up on me."

"Never do," Pete said lighting another fag.

"I'm sorry I ruined your practice," she said drearily.

"Not your fault. Next time you can even stay for the show," George said with a wink. Sarah smiled brightly.

"See you cool cats later," she said. She and Paul turned towards the door but one thing was ticking at her mind. It was the stupidest, most random question she had ever come up with, but she had to ask. She turned back around suddenly. "Hey John?" He turned to her. She felt the weight of his name on her tongue spoken for the first time. It felt far too familiar. It scared her.

"Does…Did anything important happen to you on December 8th? A birthday, an anniversary, anything?" He remained silent, piecing together in his mind this mystery with as much luck of understanding as Sarah had. They locked eyes and her stomach lurched. She knew John felt it too.

"No. Nothing." His eyes remained on Sarah's. She found it impossible to look away. She also found it near impossible to leave now. She didn't want to go. Her fear was taking control of her and she was scared for his life. Blurred ideas ran in her mind of something happening to John and though she just met him, she couldn't imagine her life… She couldn't imagine the world without John Lennon. John held the same expression. He didn't want her to leave either.

Eventually though, John pulled his gaze away and turned back to get his guitar. Sarah snapped out of her trance and turned back to Paul. She walked past him, just wanting to get out. Tears were stinging her eyes and, not for the first time recently, she had no idea why.

* * *

The sun was long gone when Paul got Sarah home. Lightning bugs and crickets played in the darkness. Paul held onto Sarah's waist in case she got dizzy again. Sarah giggled and repeatedly told Paul that she was fine, but he insisted, saying that he didn't mind. His comment made her blush a deep red that he couldn't see in the dark.

They stopped right outside Sarah's apartment. This was a common place to be. Paul would always take her home and they would stand on the sidewalk and say their goodbyes before giving each other a friendly hug (that sometimes left Sarah wanting a bit more). But tonight, no words were exchanged. Paul had something on his mind.

"What is it Paul?" Sarah asked. He sighed deeply.

"I'm going to be away for a while. The band got booked to go to Hamburg again." Sarah's eyes widened and her mouth fell open but no words came out. "I don't want to, but our manager thinks it's a good idea. If we get our name out there, then… who knows." Paul said with hope in his voice. He expressed it many times to her: he wanted to be bigger than Elvis.

"You can't go. It's too dangerous and dirty there. Someone could kidnap you, someone could kill you!" Sarah exclaimed, panic seeping into her voice. Paul gave her a silent shrug which said enough. _What can we do about it?_ Sarah had to think of something. She couldn't let Paul go to Hamburg again. From the stories he told, no one should be going to Hamburg. "I can go with you!" Paul laughed at the idea.

"No, you most certainly will not." He reached up and cupped her cheek. "I won't let someone as sweet as you go somewhere as dirty as Hamburg. I care about you too much." His words hung in the air, singing along with the crickets. Sarah's stomach didn't lurch like it did around John, her heart lurched. It was by far the kindest words ever spoken to her by a boy. She gazed into his amazing eyes. They were a sweet green-brown now, with flecks of almost pure gold. He was stunning in the moonlight. His eyes scanned her face and Sarah realized how close they actually were. One of them must have taken a step forward, but she didn't remember. He hovered on her mouth before meeting her eyes again. He licked his lips nervously.

It happened and then it ended just as fast. Paul leaned in and placed one single kiss on Sarah's lips. It was chaste but it still took her breath away. She stiffened up, but only from surprise. She hadn't expected Paul to kiss her.

_Paul kissed her. _

A smile appeared on her face as her hear tried to jump out of her chest. Paul seemed almost shocked too, like he hadn't plan on kissing her tonight. But he smiled too, grateful that Sarah didn't smack him.

"So," he began. "…I'll see you when I get back from Germany?" It came out more of a question than he wanted. Sarah nodded, still very much dazed by happiness.

"Yeah," she agreed nodding her head in small, quick gestures. "Yeah, when you get back." Paul nodded too, unsure of what to do next. He still held a smile on his face.

Paul looked as though he was going to say 'good-bye' again, but he turned around and started to walk back to Jacaranda, hands in his pocket and head to the sky. Sarah remained on the sidewalk, playing back what happened. Her fingers touched her lips. It was very, very faint, but there was a new taste on her mouth. It was sweet like apples and had the slight bite of tobacco. She closed her eyes, breathed in and began to count the moments before she could have a stronger dose of that taste.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: This is partly filler, but at least it's entertaining filler. =) I hope you all liked Ch. 6, it was mad fun to write. Things only pick up from here. A bit more events need to happen, but it's all exciting reading. =) Special thanks to Amanda for keeping me writing this story. Now ON WITH THE SHOW! =D

* * *

Sarah took her house key out as silently as possible. She didn't know if her mother was home or awake or not, but if she was there was going to be hell to pay She hadn't called home or told her where she was all day long. Sarah at least wanted to go to sleep and hopefully her mother wouldn't notice until tomorrow. She slid her key into the lock and opened the door with a few quiet clicks and squeaks.

All the lights were turned off as she entered her home. She tip-toed through her kitchen, then her living room, almost to her bedroom.

"_Sarah Elizabeth Walker!" _Sarah cringed. She was so close. She entered her mother's room where she sat, wrapped up in her robe, hair in curlers and cigarette smoke billowing all around. She never looked uglier in Sarah's eyes. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Sarah resisted the urge or yell or talk back. She was having such a sweet night and she wanted the fight over as soon as possible so she could end it on the same note.

"It's late," she said. "And I know I didn't tell you where I was, I'm sorry. Time just got away from me."

"Where were you all day? I was at my wits end! I was ready to call the police!"

"I was... out with a friend," she said ambiguously.

"And what's her name, hm? Do I know her?" Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wasn't leaving without getting into a fight; she could feel it. She could lie, but she was tired of lying. Her mother was bound to find out who was taking her out all the time eventually.

"Paul," she said way too nonchalantly. Her mother's face twisted.

"That doesn't sound like a girl's name to me."

"That's because he's not a girl. Paul's a boy, alright? I've been hanging around with a boy all this time." Sarah saw her mother's reaction and actually wanted to get a bigger rise out of her. Either she was spending too much time with a bad boy rocker or something but she knew what to say to get her mother even more upset. And she wanted to. "And his band too." Sarah's mother went stark white, then furiously red.

"His band!?"

"Rock & roll band. They're real good, real cool teddy boys," Sarah said with a bit of venom. She knew her mother disapproved but she really didn't care if she got mad at her and yelled. Sarah was finally realizing what it felt like to live outside of her mother's watch. It was a very wonderful thing.

What she didn't expect was her mother's response: "And what were you _doing_ with them?" Her implications were clear. All too clear. Sarah's snarky attitude melted away and was replaced with anger.

"I wasn't doing _that,_ if that's what you mean. Nothing that would embarrass you."

"How do I know you wouldn't? I don't know what goes on behind close doors! How many were there anyway? What exactly did you do?"

"Nothing!" Sarah screamed. Her mother came up and gave her a hard smack across the cheek.

"Don't you raise your voice to me you little slut!" Her words stung more than her burning cheek. Instantly, they both knew a line was crossed: a line that wasn't ever defined but was clearly there. Tears started to flow out of Sarah's eyes and she could do nothing to stop them. Her mother wanted to instantly apologize but what example would be set from that?

After some time of silence, with Sarah crying and her mother standing hard, Sarah left for her room where, for the first time in three years, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

As the days turned into weeks, Sarah gave up trying to pretend she wasn't counting the days until the Beatles came back to England. Instead, she marked it down everyday on a calendar. She was tired of acting like some cool cat that didn't care when in reality she just wanted to see Paul again.

During the last weeks of August, when her mother was out at work, Sarah got a phone call.

"Hello, this is the Walker's residence. Sarah speaking."

"Hello this is a one James Paul McCartney, looking for a pretty little girl that is so obviously missing him," his cool, humorous voice said through the receiver.

"Paul! You're back!" Sarah jumped up with the body of the phone in her hand.

"Yeah, just got back this morning. I want you to meet me down by that open field past Walton Way, I've got something amazing to tell you." She could hear the smile in his voice.

"And you can't tell me now?"

"I want to see your face," he said. Sarah smiled and hung up the phone, racing into her room to find the nicest outfit she had. She put on a powder blue dress and white flats. The material was very thin due to the raging temperatures outside. She left her hair down. Without it being styled it reached to about her shoulders. Paul mentioned once how much he loved her long hair. She fixed every little thing about her until she felt she was a close to perfect as she was ever going to get.

When she got to the field, she could vaguely remember that this was the place she went to right before she met Paul on Penny Lane. Sarah smiled brightly. The flat land was a good mile long, surrounded by a thin wood. In the center, stood a lone tree that twisted and turned from time. The branches were low and deformed enough to make it easy to climb all the way to the top, something that Sarah used to do as a young girl. She remembered, feeling it was rather embarrassing now, that she would have to take off her skirt to have more mobility to get to the top. Her mother found her one day and scolded her. Now she wouldn't dream of taking off her clothes for something as trivial as climbing a tree, though she did miss the fun of it.

But some people still could. Sitting there on the lowest branch under the shade was Paul, watching and waving to her when she was close enough to see it. He was wearing a white collared shirt with a black tie, nice fitting trousers and dress shoes. He was sweating through the shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was disheveled, indicating he probably slept in his clothes when he got home and didn't have time to change between waking up and calling Sarah. He looked absolutely… Sarah very much enjoyed this look on Paul. She gave a grandiose wave back and ran for him. Paul jumped down from the tree and ran for her too, picking her up in and spinning her around in a hug. He put her down but didn't let go.

"Did you miss me?"

"Every day. I'm so glad your back. Safe and sound." Paul pulled her back, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"I'm better than safe and sound, I'm bloody fantastic! I've got brilliant news for you. The Beatles just recorded their first record!" Sarah's mouth fell into a smile.

"Paul, that's incredible!" She jumped into another hug.

"Well," he began, "it's not really ours. We were backing Tony Sheridan and we're not called the Beatles on it. We're called the Beat Brothers. And it was only really a hit in Germany. But it doesn't matter because it's our first!"

"I'm so incredibly proud of you," Sarah said with stars in her eyes. She got the feeling that maybe Paul and his band would make it big. This was a very good sign.

"The band's heading over to a real cool club tonight to celebrate the release. Do you want to join?"

"Would they want me there? Isn't it only a band member's thing?"

"Nah, it's fine. Actually, Johnny wouldn't shut up about you the whole trip home. I think maybe he fancies you a bit," Paul said with a wink.

"Well maybe I fancy him too," Sarah replied with a smirk. Paul's face twisted into confusion. Sarah lifted an eyebrow. Teasing Paul was an absolute gas. She leaned in slightly and pulled Paul in closer with his tie. Her warm breath was very distinct on Paul's lips even in the heat. "I think we should be getting ready for the party tonight, don't you think?" She pulled away slowly, letting Paul's tie fall through her fingers.

Sarah gave Paul a look with smoldering eyes, a look that should only be used in private. It made Paul shift uncomfortably. Sarah noticed, smiled and turned to head back into town, knowing full well Paul was hot on her heels.

* * *

At around eight that evening, Sarah sneaked out of her house and ran over to Paul's. He told her they were heading out to a newer, groovier club a few towns over that she'd never been to before. He also gave her some new clothes to put on. The skirt was a little shorter, the shirt was a bit tighter and they were black and a dark red. Naturally, Sarah was a bit skeptical but Paul was all on board for it. When she exited his bathroom with her new outfit on, Paul was even more pleased. Sarah was about to protest but when Paul protectively put his arm around her waist, pulling her close, not to keep her for himself but to keep others away, she felt instantly safer and the clothes gave her a bit of a confidence boost. She did look hot tonight.

The two met up with George, John and Pete at the bus that would drop them and a few others off right in front of a very happening club. Dozens of people entered and exited the building without a guard. The music was ten times louder than anything Sarah had heard before. The music was rock & roll but it was a louder and heavier sound that what even the Beatles were playing. But it wasn't bad. On the contrary, Sarah found herself being drawn to the sound.

The five entered together, Paul still holding onto Sarah. Before they got lost in the crowd of dancing teenagers, Paul pulled Sarah to the side and said, "Stay with me. I don't want you getting lost in here." Sarah agreed and they began their journey into the center of the dancing kids.

The band was rocking tonight. Every chord sounded sharp, every note was dead center. It added to the excitement of the celebration. John came around with a bottle of beer for everyone. He also brought back a pretty little blonde wearing a much more provocative outfit than Sarah. Within a few minutes, John was dancing with his blonde, Paul was dancing with Sarah, George found himself a petite brunette and Pete ran off to snog some ginger girl. He obviously forgot to celebrate the band's success with the band. But the others were having too good of a time so they let the boy have his fun.

After a few songs, the heat and power of the atmosphere was getting to Sarah. She needed a quick break. She tugged on Paul's blazer. "I'm going to the lavatory. I'll be right back." Paul nodded and went back to dancing with his friends. Sarah could barley squirm between the dancing couples. When she got there, the restrooms were gritty and dirty. It smelled like urine and made her a bit sick. All she needed was a breather and then she would head back out. She looked at herself in the mirror. Sweat was trickling down her face, smudging her makeup a bit. She splashed just a bit of water on her face to cool off and reapplied her makeup. She gave herself one last look. Her mother would say she looked trashy. Sarah thought she looked more grown up.

Almost as soon as she left the lavatory, she spotted a teddy with blonde hair signaling her over. Confused but not concerned, she advanced to him.

"Yeah?"

"You're a pretty bird," he said. She blushed. "Can you sing?" Sarah took her eyes off him for a moment. Now was not the time for this. But she was so tempted, and maybe it would make the night more fun. She looked back to the dance floor. Through all the people, she could see Paul dancing with a new girl. Sarah knew it was nothing, just someone to occupy Paul's time until she got back so he wouldn't be dancing alone, but it still hit her in her chest hard. She could be fun.

"It depends, what kind of song?" she asked with a sly smile playing on her pink lips. He nodded and pulled out a small rolled up joint. Ah, her favorite tune. She leaned in, put the drug in her mouth and let him light it up. She breathed in the smoke and held it in for a few seconds. Her eyes closed and the colours almost instantly appeared in her mind. Her body soon became relaxed. "Mmm," she said releasing the smoke around her face. "This is good stuff."

The teddy chuckled. "Glad you like it." His hand slid down her back. "See you later." He left Sarah smiling and in a world of her own. She opened her eyes and spotted Paul. Her jealously moments ago seemed silly. All bad things she ever felt before seemed silly. She was at peace and was happy. So she lightly wandered back to Paul. At her sight, Paul pushed away the other girl and pulled Sarah back in. Sarah smiled and threw her arms around Paul's neck so she could stand up. It was an awkward way of dancing, they were more or less just swaying to the music rather than actually dancing, but Paul couldn't complain. He had Sarah literally hanging on him. He grabbed her waist to help her stand because she was actually falling a bit. He found it funny, but still…

"Are you feeling okay?" he said into her ear over the music.

Sarah giggled. She heard Paul but couldn't understand his words. She couldn't understand much of anything, just feel. She felt the heat of the club, the vibrations of the music, the brush of skin on skin of other dancers. And she felt Paul's skin on hers. She felt the heat radiating off Paul and onto her. She was suddenly surrounded by him. She could smell more define Paul's cologne than the sweat and smoke that filled the room. Her head lolled onto Paul's shoulder where the scent seemed to be the strongest. She breathed it in, let it take over her. It felt like someone filled her with warm water. It was a wonderful feeling. It was a strong scent, that of clean soap and cherries. She placed her lips on his neck right above his shoulder. His skin was salty sweet, but had an overwhelming essence that was just Paul. She moaned a bit from the taste and felt Paul's grip on her tighten. His hand grazed the small of her back that was exposed from her shirt. His hands were soft and smooth. She kissed his neck more ferociously, wanting to taste more, feel more, _have more._

Sarah felt Paul's hold on her disappear. Her arm lifted in the air against her will and she was moving. She was too tripped out to understand what was going on, she could only feel. The next thing she felt was her lying down. She was comfy; the ground was soft like a pillow. She smiled, thinking she was floating away on a cloud. The colours that filled her eyes were darker and the music beat with a muffled sound with a harder beat. She must have been far away. Then she felt Paul's hand cradling her face, his lips on her cheek, then mouth, then throat. Her smile continued until she realized that Paul didn't smell like clean soap and cherries anymore. And his hands didn't feel soft and smooth as they traveled down her side. She couldn't comprehend how this was possible, she could only feel and she felt uncomfortable. She tried to talk but it seemed strained and difficult.

"Paul," she managed to slur out. "Wait…stop…" She didn't hear a response of any kind. She couldn't hear much of anything anymore. The music morphed into static sound and crashing and dark shadows flew past her open eyes. But she wasn't cohesive enough to be afraid, just confused in her drugged out state.

She didn't know that the blonde Teddy boy that gave her the pot took her right out of Paul's arms on the dance floor and pulled her into a storage room with a mattress that was placed there for hooking up. She didn't know that Paul followed them and was in pursuit by John.

Paul kicked the door until it finally gave way and saw the blonde boy with his pants around his ankles hovering over Sarah's squirming body. Red rage filled Paul's sight as he advanced on the stranger and threw him against the wall. Again and again, Paul's fist connected with the boy's stomach, chest, jaw, nose, anywhere in his reach. Blood started to accumulate on his fist but he couldn't seem to care or stop. He just kept beating the blonde.

It wasn't until he heard a meek moan that he stopped. Sarah was fidgeting on the ground and almost reaching, though it looked pathetic in her state. Paul let go of the boy's collar, letting him fall to the floor and ran to Sarah. He tilted her face gently towards him.

"Sarah, are you okay?" She didn't give a comprehensive response, just a gurgled noise. Her eyes were closed, but her eyebrows were furrowed together showing her distress. "Sarah, open your eyes," Paul begged close to her ear so she could hear him. She slowly lifted her lids to see Paul, but her speckled green eyes didn't lock on him. They were hazed and distant like she couldn't see anything at all. Despite that, she lifted her hand and ran it gingerly over Paul's cheek. She then closed her eyes and dropped her hand.

John entered the room and saw the scene. He was smart enough to put two and two together and picked up where Paul left off, adding in kicks in the boy's weakened state. Paul picked up Sarah and carried her to the door.

"John, I'm taking Sarah to my house. Tell the others," Paul said. He looked at the bloody mess John was beating. "And take care of him."

"Can do Macca. Take care of her." John resumed his work.

Paul took Sarah all the way back to his house while still letting her sleep in his arms. Every now and again, she'd groan and break out in a minor sweat, and the few people on the bus were giving them strange looks, but besides that the trip was uneventful. It gave Paul time to wonder what happened to her. He knew she was acting weird after she got back from the lavatory. He knew now that she was so obviously drugged. Her actions weren't like her. He touched the hickey she left on his neck. Looking back, he should have taken her away and made sure she was okay but he was too… distracted. Then she was just taken away. He didn't even see who did it, he wasn't paying attention. It was just one minute she was in his arms and the next she was gone. It twisted Paul's stomach to thing he could lose Sarah that easily. She was in his arms for Christ sake.

When they finally got back to Liverpool, Paul entered his home silently. It was well past midnight and his father and brother knew he was out but they didn't know about Sarah. He opened his bedroom door with some effort and gently placed Sarah on his bed. He then removed his own shirt and put on a pair of sweat pants. He hesitated before entering the bed. Was it really right to do this now?

Sarah rolled over and looked like she was cold, though that was impossible with it being a warm August night and having a quilt on top of her. So maybe she wasn't cold, maybe she was… lonely?

Paul crawled onto the bed and pulled Sarah against his chest. Instantly, she relaxed, breathing in deeply and sighing, she fell into a deep sleep. And with the knowledge that Sarah was safe, so did Paul.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: This chapter is mad short and boring. So is the next one. But hey, I just gave you two action packed chapters in a row. Be grateful. ;) Sorry it took a bit, life's a bitch and I'm fighting it on every term. But I'm writing the next chapter as we speak lovlies. =) Enjoy my Beatlemaniacs!

* * *

"Ugh! I hate our manager!" John complained. He, his band and Sarah were spending a lazy October weekend in George's garage.*

"What did he do this time?" Sarah asked, taking a drag of her ciggie and passing it to George who ran out.

"He booked us another show in Germany," Paul said.

"You can't be serious. How many times have you played in Hamburg so far?"

"12," all four of them replied at the same time. Sarah laughed.

"Does he realize that anytime you go there you've got a great possibility of… getting stabbed?"

"Not just that," John added. "Every time we go there, the drag queens and the ugly birds start looking more and more alike. Before you know it I'll be bedding a bloke in a dress." The other four burst into uncontrollable laughter at John's seriousness.

"Well, if you hate… um, what's his name again?"

"Allan fucking Williams," John said rolling his eyes.

"If you hate him so much why not fire the bastard?" Sarah asked.

"No one else will sign us," Pete said. "He says playing in Germany is good for getting a name for ourselves."

"We have a name and it's the fucking Beatles!" John yelled. "And we are famous. Since we got back I've had three young things come up to me for a good shagging."

"Did you take them up on that offer?" Sarah asked with a smile, taking a swig of her beer. John scoffed at her.

"Of course I did. Who do you think you're talking to?" he said. He reached over and snatched the bottle out of her hand.

* * *

The day before Halloween, Sarah noticed a reoccurring pattern while working. Three days before, a girl walked into the record store asking for the 'My Bonnie' single, the one the Beatles recorded with Tony in Germany. Sarah overheard this and casually eavesdropped on her and Brian's conversation. He didn't have any of the single in stock, but he promised he'd order one for her by the weeks end. Sarah let it go for the moment, but kept that in the back of her mind.

And now two more girls walked in asking Brian for the same single. Sarah figured this would be beneficial to her lads somehow. Knowing a record shop owner couldn't hurt them at all.

"Excuse me, Mr. Epstein?"

"Good afternoon Sarah," he said with a bright smile. He had grown quite fond of her as her work increasingly improved. She just so recently got a generous raise. It was the reason her Crickets album remained in her milk crate after only three uses.

"I couldn't help overhear. Those girls were looking for 'My Bonnie'?"

"Yes, thought I couldn't say I've ever heard it before. It's so odd. Another customer came in a few days ago asking for it too."

"I'd assume it's uncommon. The single was released only in Germany." Brian's face grew questioning.

"How do you know that?"

"The band that played with Tony Sheridan, the Beat Brothers – well, they're really called the Beatles – I know them. Incredibly well. And they sound much better when they're not playing behind someone else," she said with a dazzling smile. Brian looked quite interested. Sarah figured now was the time to turn on her charm.

"I can almost guarantee that dozens of more girls will be coming in for that song. And to say that you know the Beatles personally will drive up sales indefinitely. I'm sure that when they get their first record deal they'd be more than willing to play a few songs for your store."

"When they get a record deal? They don't have a manager?" Brian inquired.

"They do, it's just he's not very…" The word escaped her.

"Suitable to their needs?"

"I was just going to say. Actually, not really _their _needs, more like he can't control John." Sarah chuckled to herself. No one could control John Lennon. Brian just nodded.

"Maybe I'm interested in meeting them." Sarah contained her excitement incredibly well.

"I know for a fact that their next gig is at the Cavern Club on the 9th. I highly suggest you go. They really are worth the time." Sarah smiled and returned to her work.

The night before the Beatles' afternoon show at the Cavern, Brian Epstein booked his tickets to see them. He easily managed to meet them backstage.

The rest was history.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Since last chapter sucked, I banged this chapter out easily to make up for how much I suck. A bit longer, not as action packed as most, but much more fun than the last. =) This is specifically dedicated to Amanda because of reasons she will know about. ;) Enjoy my loves!

* * *

By February of 1962, Brian Epstein officially became the Beatles new manager, and Brian wasted no time trying to get the band as many opportunities as possible. Auditions, gigs, recording contracts, he even got them signed with EMI's Parlophone record label. This got them access to the famous Abbey Road Studios. There, they met the talented music producer George Martin, who they would be working with for many years to come. He was very clever and worked with the lads to get the sound they needed, even if it wasn't the sound they wanted. This included cutting Pete Best's take and laying down a demo track of drums. This one act began a difficult time within the band, which was encouraged unknowingly by Sarah.

"Because you can't play, that's why! Lennon could do it better than you!" Sarah yelled.

"Why are you still around here anyway? When did it become cool to let little birds hang around band practice?" Pete yelled right back.

The two have been going off on each other for close to three weeks now. Every little thing they did seemed to infuriate the other. Pete would lose his rhythm, Sarah would distract Paul. Pete would comment on George's guitar playing, Sarah would try to add her own harmonies. What would usually start off as a mellow practice would quickly escalate into a war between Best and Walker.

"It became cool when I got three fourths of the band on my side!"

"Well you know what, Miss Walker? I'm done with you! I'm not above hitting a girl, ya know!" Pete threw down his drum sticks and advanced towards Sarah, eyes blazing. Paul had seen Pete in this state before, he was all too serious. He got up and stopped Pete in his tracks.

"No Paul, it's okay. If he wants to fight let him fight me," Sarah said, shrugging off a borrowed leather jacket. As she spent more and more time with the Beatles, she began dressing much more casually. Soon, skirts were replaced with faded and ripped demine jeans, high heels were replaced with All Stars and a carton of cigarettes were always on her person. She also acquired a slight taste for getting into minor fights. Mostly with other girls, but when that happened she knew how to throw a punch. Paul however was not too keen on seeing his girl get hit by a boy twice as big as her.

"Sarah, maybe you should head out for a bit. We need to talk." Paul's eyes were so sweet and soft, if it was any other person, she would have stood her ground. She walked out of George's garage to take a stroll around the block.

Paul let go of Pete. "Why the hell do you insist of taking her to every single one of our practices? Did she become a member of the band and I didn't know about it?" Pete snapped. "Everything I do is a reason for her to fight me! It's like she gets off on being a bitch!" Before Paul could react, John butted in.

"Don't talk about her like that! This is my band and if I say she can stick around she can stick around!"

"Oh, is she fucking you too Lennon?" Paul grabbed his collar and threw him to the wall.

"Hey, calm it down Pete," George said, with his air of calmness cooling the heated room. Paul let him go, throwing him a look that really could kill.

"I've had it with her. I'm fed up with her around. Either you get rid of her or you get rid of me!" Silence hung in the room. None of the lads wanted to make Sarah leave. Whenever Pete wasn't around of not fighting, the four of them had a grand old time. Even if she wasn't an official member of the band, they still considered her one of them, even if she was a girl. But Pete was the best drummer they had and he was an actual member.

"We'll think about it Pete, we'll honestly think about it," John said carefully, weighting each word before it came out.

"Yeah, until then I'm out of here." Pete took the remaining beer bottles and exited the garage.

As it turned out, Brian didn't like Pete all that much either. He wasn't satisfied with his sound in the studio. On stage he was fine, but he didn't understand how to tune down his sound for the studio.

For a certain show at the Cavern, Pete called in sick with the flu. It was nearly last minute and the Beatles needed an emergency drummer. George suggested the call up their old friend Rory and ask if they could borrow his drummer. Rory agreed and at 10:30 that night, a short little man with a quite large nose and striking blue eyes entered their dressing room.

"You Richard then?" Paul asked from behind a cloud of smoke.

"Yes, that's me. Richard Starkey. Rory called me up and said you blokes needed a drummer."

"That we do," George said with a smile.

"You got an awfully big honker there, don't you?" John said bluntly. Instead of taking offense to that, Richard simply laughed, making a smile that could light up the night.

"I get that a lot," he replied good-naturedly. At that, the door opened behind him and Sarah entered the room.

"Hey fellows," she said.

"Hey Sarah," they all replied in unison.

"Sorry I'm late. I had to convince me mum that I _wasn't_ going out to see you perform tonight." She caught notice of the stranger in front of her. "Who's the chap with the big nose?" John stifled a laugh. Richard only smiled again and bowed in a very gentlemanly fashion.

"Ringo Starr, at your service, ma'am."

"Ringo Starr?" George said with a chuckle in his voice.

"Yeah, it's me stage name. Considering the fact that I always wear me rings." He held up both hands to two rings on each hand, some just gold or silver bands, some more decorated with stones.

"That's bloody clever," Sarah commented, very amused by the new friend. "Sarah Walker. Just Sarah Walker." She took his hand and shook it playfully.

"Sarah Walker." Richard tried it out. It was a name filled with fun and joy. It brought another smile to his face. He lowered his voice a tad. "In case you want to know, it's really Richard. You can take you pick."

Sarah smiled. "Richard… Ringo… I'll stick with Richie." Richie chuckled.

"You a good drummer then Ringo?" Paul asked.

"Not the best, but I can keep you a tempo if that's what you need." He took out a pair of drum sticks from his inner jacket pocket and walked to the drum set set up for a dress practice. He began a small drum solo. It wasn't elaborate in any way, but it was clean and constant with a very rich beat. John was watching him the way he watched Paul and George the first time they played for him, with judging eyes that made a note of every move his body made and every sound that came from the instrument. Ringo was going through his audition and John was very much impressed.

As Ringo ended, the four audience members clapped for him, but Sarah seemed more excited than the boys. She thought Richard was so adorable when he played. His droopy face gave no real insight to the way he acted. His smile never left his face and his head bopped along with the perfect tempo. He never stuttered on his set or missed a hit. Even without a single pitch from his instrument he seemed to bring it to life. It was a different kind of music. And with his smiling and energy, he reminded Sarah of a puppy, ready and willing to give you all the love you needed.

"I like him," Sarah said to the group, and turning to face Richie himself, she continued, "I like you a lot. You're very good."

"Well thanks," he said. Richard was pleased with himself. He never got this recognition in his own band.

A knock came from the door and Brian entered.

"You must be Richard Starkey."

"Ringo," George corrected, still amused by the name.

"That's me. I'm your drummer for the night," Ringo said, flashing a dazzling smile. _Or forever, _Sarah thought. It all depended on how Brian liked him. And it fate would have it be.

At 11 on the dot, the Beatles took the stage with their new drummer. It wasn't just Sarah's or Brian's opinion, but the entire club seemed to think the band sounded the best they ever had that night. They were more in sync with each other than they had ever been. The four on stage worked brilliantly, musically and visually. With Ringo in the back, Paul on stage right, John on stage left and young George in the middle, they put on the best show they ever did. After the show, the four Beatles, along with Sarah and Brian, with some convincing, went out to a bar for a celebratory drink. Richard was toasted for his amazing performance and spectacular percussion playing.

Unsurprisingly, Brian called Pete a few weeks later saying he was being dropped from the band with little to no argument from John, Paul or George. That August of '62, Ringo Starr became the fourth official member of the Beatles.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Good news! Only a few more chapters before the go on tour and things really start happening. ;) I'm not 100% sure how things are going to go down, seeing as I don't have a solid plan, but things (usually) work out in the end. ;) OH! And massive thanks to Celestearts for commenting on every chapter every time. =) You kick major ass ma'am! Or mister. User names aren't very gender specific. =) Enjoy the 10th!

* * *

On a crisp November day, Sarah and Paul decided to spend the day in, away from the frigid winds. Paul had made himself a cup of tea and Sarah a cup of coffee. The day was going leisurely enough as Sarah scrolled through Paul's record collection. She found what she expected, a lot of Elvis and a lot of American rock & roll artists, but one beat up old record in a handmade dirty sleeve caught her attention.

"The Music Man?" Sarah said quite surprised.

"Yeah, I found it at a second-hand shop. Got it for nearly nothing. But it's not the original. It's some other version of it. All the songs are covered, taken at a different tempo or in a different key. It's not a bad album."

"I didn't know you liked musicals."

"Me cousin got me into them. I'm not the biggest fan, not that I'll ever see a show on Broadway." He smiled, with the slight dream that he would travel to New York City someday. "But it's got some real good tracks on it."

"How's 'Seventy-Six Trombones'?" she asked.

"All except that one," Paul replied. "They took it was out of time, made it sound like a drone. It's a real drag."

"Well which song is your favorite?" Paul's face lit up in a smile.

"'Till There Was You'." Sarah groaned loudly.

"I can't stand that song!" She fell off the couch dramatically onto the floor, skillfully not spilling a single drop of her coffee.

"Why not?" Paul asked.

"It's too slow and too high. I had to try to sing it in me music class when I was little. Made a fool out of myself. Never lived it down."

"This isn't the song you know. It's at a much more energetic time and the key is drastically lower. The person singing might have been a man at one point. Girls don't sing that low." Sarah laughed. She took the vinyl disk out of the paper sleeve and put it on the needle. She heard a very lively guitar version of the well known song, still slow and loving but with energy and life to it. Paul took the coffee from her hand and placed it on the ground. He took her hand and led her into his arm where he proudly began dancing with her in an upbeat and happy manner which the song portrayed. And to Sarah's amusement, Paul began singing:

"_There were bells_

_On a hill_

_But I never heard them ringing_

_No I never heard them at all_

_Till there was you."_

Sarah laughed at Paul's production. She was deeply touched by this showing. He spun her around, whipping her hair around and excreting another laugh.

"_There were birds_

_In the sky_

_But I never saw them winging_

_No I never saw them at all_

_Till there was you._

"_Then there was music_

_And wonderful roses_

_They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows_

_Of dawn _

_And dew,_

"_There was love_

_All around_

_But I never heard it singing_

_No I never heard it at all_

_Till there was you."_

"You're such a charmer," Sarah said with a laugh in her voice. "And I never thought you'd be such a wonderful dancer."

"Well, I may or may not have taken lessons and planned this whole day so I could serenade you," Paul said with a controlled grin. Sarah continued to dance in Paul's arms with a wide, shocked smile on her face.

"Did you really?" she asked passionately. Paul didn't answer, he just kept his grin. Sarah burst into a powerful laugh. "Paul McCartney, you are incredible!" He didn't reply, he simply spun her again and continued singing.

"_Then there was music_

_And wonderful roses_

_They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows _

_Of dawn _

_And dew,_

"_There was love_

_All around_

_But I never heard it singing_

_No I never heard it at all_

_Till there was you._

"_Till there was you!" _

Paul finished off his dance with Sarah by quickly dipping her. She wrapped her arms around the back of Paul's neck when she was brought back up. Their eyes caught. His were shining like stars, each color lit up in amazing patterns. Sarah had only seen colors like that a few times in her life, but those were all artificial experiences.

The needle hit a scratch in between song and repeated silence, so the air stood still. At the same time, Paul and Sarah leaned in and smashed their lips together. Their kiss wasn't soft like the few others were, it was passionate and needy. It was something they were both missing for a long while. Sarah's stubby nails bit into Paul's skin. His hands grazed up her shirt the slightest bit. A breathy sigh was released from Paul's throat, just on the side of a moan. Their bodies were pulled closer together, each so hungry for the other.

Before anything could even begin to happen, a call came from the front door.

"Paul I'm home!" Jim yelled to his son. The two teenagers pulled their lips away instantly but still remained wrapped in each other's hold. Paul's eyes searched Sarah's face, which replied to him with a brief smile. It was life, what were you going to do? They shared a short laugh as Paul took her hand and lead her upstairs for a jam session.

* * *

Bundle up from the bitter cold, Sarah hastily walked out of a book shop onwards to John's house. His Aunt Mimi would never let them have band practice there, but she was out all day. John would be sure to get rid of all the instruments and fix every little thing about Mimi's house before she got back. No one wanted to see Mimi Smith angry, not even John Lennon.

"Sarah Walker! Stop for a minute!" someone yelled out. Sarah turned to see three girls chasing after her. She knew them from around town; it was Betty, Wendy and Janet. They never conversed with each other.

"Can I help you?" Sarah asked.

"We heard that you're really good friends with the Beatles," Betty said. She was wearing a skirt way too short for today's frigid weather.

"Yeah, I know them," she said carefully, not entirely trusting these girls. They had… not perfect reputations.

"Do you think we could meet them?" Wendy asked with excitement in her voice. Sarah sighed heavily. This was guaranteed to happen eventually. The Beatles were becoming bigger and bigger it seemed as the days went on. Brian and Martin was working magic on them, with radio hit after radio hit. They were quickly becoming, not just the hottest thing in Liverpool, but the hottest thing in England. Even the entire UK. Hell, even America was starting to get a taste of their sound and go crazy for it! It was only a matter of time before people would find her to get to them. They even joked about it sometimes, saying they'll find a new bird to hang around with and leave Sarah high and dry.

"I can get you girls autographs if that's what you want," Sarah said.

"No, we'd like something a bit more personal," Betty replied. Now that confused and concerned Sarah.

"How personal?" she asked highly on guard.

"One night," Janet said. "They can do whatever they want, it's their call. But we want one night." Their proposition hung in Sarah's brain for a moment. She knew exactly what they were asking for, but she wasn't sure how to respond.

"Okay," she replied slowly. "I'll tell them your names and I'll call you if they want to take you three up." After a quick excited squeal from the trio, they ran back to wherever they came from.

Finally arriving at John's house, she shucked off her bulky clothes. She noticed one of them missing.

"Where's Richie?" she asked.

"Went out to buy a pack of smokes. He'll be back soon," George answered.

"What took you so long then, baby?" John asked, re-tuning his guitar while the others waited.

"You won't believe what happened on my way over here."

"Oh gossip!" John literally threw his guitar to the ground and jumped over various furniture pieces to fall on the couch, head in his hands, looking at Sarah like a school girl. "How I absolutely love it! Please tell me more!"

"Shove it Lennon." She dropped her coat on his face and walked towards the two other, more behaved, boys. "There were these three girls that I don't know that well, and they asked for you."

"Do we know them?" Paul asked.

"No they were just fans of yours."

"Fans?" John jumped up off the couch and returned to the group.

"What did they want?" George asked.

"I'm going to turn to John for this answer because he'll understand it better than you two." She looked John Lennon straight in the eye and asked, "What do you think they wanted?" Sarah knew John's mind was only capable of understanding two things: rock & roll and sex. So nearly instantly, his face lit up.

"Brilliant! So what did you tell them?" he said laughing from excitement.

"I told them I'd see how you all faired with it," Sarah answered.

"What is he talking about?" Paul asked incredibly confused.

"Sarah found three- wait, were the pretty?" John asked turning to his female friend. Sarah stuttered slightly.

"Well… they were decent enough."

"Sarah found us three pretty birds to shag! Found 'em right off the street! Asking for us nonetheless! You know what this means right?" The room was silent. "We're huge now! We've actually got girls trying to get with us now!"

"Now what do we do?" George asked, a smile ever growing on his young face.

"I mean, I can find them and tell them you're interested. But just know that this will start something. More and more girls will want you the bigger you get."

"If anyone comes up to you," John started, "you just send them to us." When Richard returned, the band shared a jubilant celebration, with pats on the back, hand shakes and buzzing excitement. All except Paul.

* * *

That night, Paul and Sarah grew tired of life inside four walls. Despite the cold, the two spent the entire evening roaming outside, from the moment the sun went down till the moon was hanging high in the sky.

The air stood still as a statue, not a single breeze bringing it to life. This kept the cold down enough for each of them to remove most of their late year coats. They walked hand in hand past a small lake in a park that they may or may not have snuck into. The extra chill from the water bit their noses and brought them closer together. The sky was a dark black against the darker black of the water. The stars shined in the night with a perfect copy of the moon on Earth next to the lovely couple, so close it made Sarah yearned to reach out and touch it.

The dead silence was welcome between the two, accompanied only by the dried leaves crunching underneath their feet. However, it was broken by Paul, who had wanted to speak for quite some time now.

"Did you contact those girls?" he asked without halting their pace.

"Yes," Sarah replied.

"What did you tell them?"

"I said that 'the band is interested in partaking in certain activities that were previously discussed'." Sarah smirked at the memory of their responses, obviously not ready to hear such formality in the conversations of sex.

"Did you tell them that I want no part in it?" This halted their pace. Sarah turned to him.

"Why not?" She said it in such a way that implied that was all Paul ever wanted, that sex was the most basic need anyone could ever have and he was denying it. It brought many questions about his friend to his head.

"I don't understand you sometimes. You seem so safe and cut off at times, and other times you're so willing to put yourself out there."

"I don't understand Paul. What are you trying to say?"

"It's just that… sometimes when we're out you'll ignore every eye that looks at you. You'll even avoid my gaze sometimes. But other times, it's like you can't get enough attention. And this happens more often than not. They'll look at you and you'll look right back. They'll come up and talk to you and you'll talk right back. And they'll say sometime or do something that you're all too keen with." He looked down at her in an odd way, almost like he was judging her. Her flirtatious personality for a long time hadn't been sitting well with him. He will admit, he himself was a flirt but not in the way Sarah was. She gave back what the boys were giving her, like she secretly wanted it too. This hit a nerve in Sarah, with Paul's eyes cast on her.

"Don't you dare look at me like that Paul McCartney, don't you dare," she said with a soft anger seething into her voice. If venom had a sound that would be it. "I know what you're thinking and it's not true. I do not go around asking for it from every guy that breathes. I'm not loose, and I'm not easy. I'm not a s-" She cut herself off before the word could leave her lips. She then felt tears prickling at her eyes. It hit her so fast that she couldn't stop herself and she began crying heavily. Paul pulled her close to his chest, keeping her warm and keeping her loved.

"Shh, shh, no. I didn't think that at all. You're good, I swear you're good." He let her cry her heart out. The one question he never got an answer to still burned in his mind: "Did your father take your virginity?" Sarah stayed quiet until she softly answered, "It doesn't matter." He knew that was a lie and she knew that was a lie but what was true was that Sarah still didn't trust Paul enough to tell him her biggest secret. After all they went through she still didn't care for him enough to tell him. Or at least that's how Paul saw it. But he wouldn't push her to answer it. What he was feeling for Sarah was possible borderline on the feelings of love and those feelings were too strong to make her do anything she wasn't ready for.

"Paul, we have a real problem," she said pulling away from him. "Whatever relationship we have right now has to end."

"What do you mean?" Paul's blood was slowly boiling.

"Any fans you have now have their eyes on you and the band. Having a girl on your arm isn't a good image for a starting group. No one wants a band where one of the members isn't desirable."

"So you don't want me because I'm famous now?" _If anything, I want you more so all those other birds know who you belong to. _That was obviously kept to herself.

"Brian will tell you the same thing. Why do you think he's making John take his wedding ring off in public and hide Cyn?"

"Because John is a bloody moron who got a girl pregnant and married her to make it alright. He's not us!"

"If Brian doesn't want John married, do you really think he'll want us together? He's jumping through hoops to hide Lennon and he'll flip if we ruin your image by going steady."

"I don't give a damn what Brian thinks!" Paul yelled. "I want to be with you and to hell with the fans who don't agree."

"Paul, for the first time ever, you really have a chance at becoming famous._ Very famous._ I would have thought it crazy before but you do have potential to become bigger than Elvis." She hit Paul's button. His eyes softened and he physically calmed a bit. "I'll be damned if I'm the reason the Beatles don't take off. I've seen you four suffer in the Cavern long enough. It's time for bigger and better things." Paul sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair.

"How long should we be apart?" he asked dreadfully.

"As long as it takes. At least until you hit it big. When you've got your fans adoration, then it won't matter if you've got a girl or not." Just to make a joke, Sarah added, "How about when John admits he married Cynthia?" He smirked.

"Do you want to be with me or not?" Sarah chuckled, but it disappeared.

"It'll take a long time Paul, but I'm willing to wait for you." Paul's eyes brightened with hope.

"Really?"

"I'd do anything for you," she said, not thinking twice into her words. Until Paul replied with: "I wouldn't ask you to do anything you didn't want to." She gazed at him and folded into his chest, pulling his arms tight around her. He kissed her hair and breathed her in. She smelt of strawberries and jasmine and amber, all rolled into an essence that was totally _Sarah. _He was sure he fell just a little bit in love with her that night. He said nothing though.

They just stood there together in the moonlight.


	11. Chapter 11

The year of 1964 was the year that changed everything.

In 1963, the Beatles' career launched like no one expected. After the release of their first album, their name rocketed around the world. In every country and every language, teenagers were singing along to Beatle lyrics. It was a shock to everyone, even the four young lads from Liverpool. They became so famous so fast and hit the world by storm so hard, a name was given to the chaos they created with their sheer presence: Beatlemania. The name did the phenomenon justice.

Their popularity, however, did take a toll on Sarah's friendship with the band. They were now going on nearly constant tours or spending whatever time they had in England recording or working. Sarah didn't entirely mind, she was incredibly proud of them (She also owed John a few quid. She bet him on a joke that if he ever did become famous he'd be at least 50. John was more serious). But she did miss spending lazy afternoons with them, convincing Brian to close the shop early and getting together with Martin in Abbey Road to joke around. The four band members, the producer, the manager and the assistant. The seven of them were as close as close could be.

That's why it was times like this that made Sarah so joyful. It was late at night and the Beatles managed to get into the Cavern Cub with little trouble. They were locked up by the owner of the club, successfully keeping the mob of screaming teenage girls out. For now at least. On the rare occasions that John, Paul, George and Richard had nothing to do, they would sneak away to undisclosed places to find Sarah and catch up. Their favorite getaway was the Cavern. It held not only joyful memories but their old, crappy instruments they started out with.

One evening, the five friends laughed and drank to very sloppy versions of folk songs. They sat on the barren stage in the empty hall where the Beatles, once Silver Beats, once Quarrymen, used to perform on a regular basis. The chairs were stacked upside-down on the rounded tables and the only noise came from the rowdy group. With each passing verse, the group gained more sour notes and broken chords. Even the steadfast Ringo Starr was losing his beat. But it was what they needed; an evening of drunken fun with good friends.

"_Oh dirty Maggie Mae _

_They have taken her away  
And she never walk down Lime Street any more  
Oh the judge he guilty found her  
For robbing a homeward bounder  
That dirty no good robbin' Maggie Mae!"_

"You sound absolutely terrible. All the work I put into you four and this is what I get?" Brian said with a smile on his face, walking into the hall. His clothes were wrinkled and torn in one spot. The fans must gave gotten him.

"Eppy!" John exclaimed in intoxicated delight. "What brings you down here?"

"Wonderful news, John. You've got another tour." All five of them groaned.

"How is that good? We just got back. We're tired and having fun finally!" Paul complained.

"Oh, you'll have fun on this tour," Brian said. "It's your first tour in the States." Four Beatle mouths were hanging open.

"Are you serious?!" Richie exclaimed.

"Just got approved. All the dates have been set. We leave tomorrow at 5 am."

"Wait? Tomorrow? When were you planning on telling us?" George asked groggily.

"Right now, about an hour after I found out. So I suggest you finish off your beers and start packing everything you can get your hands on because you won't be back to Liverpool for a while."

Cheers of excitement were exchanged and John, Richie and George gather to give Brian a huge hug, but Paul pulled Sarah aside for a moment.

"Come with us," he said.

"What? To America?" Shock was very present in her voice.

"Yes. I- We want you along with us. You told me you wanted to get out of Liverpool. This is your chance. It's America! The land of opportunity! Who knows what will happen?" Paul was far too giddy to let this go. He had his heart set on the idea of Sarah touring with him in the greatest nation in the world. He quickly reminded himself that any romantic relationship was off limits, but… it was the place where anything could happen. He held the tiny shred of hope close to him.

"Why didn't you invite me on any other of your tours?" she asked, trying to think of a reason not to go. For what reason, she couldn't say just yet.

"Because they weren't as grand as this one," Paul replied like it was the most obvious answer in the world. "They were Germany, France, Sweden. Trust me, there is nothing in Sweden. This is a tour of America. And you'll be taking it with me. What more could you ask for?"

He was right. What more could she ask for? She would be getting out of this lousy excuse of a port town, away from her overbearing mother that she was growing more and more relentless of, and seeing a wonderful, new country with the boy of her dreams.

"I have to think about it. This is a big decision to make." Paul leaned in and whispered into her ear: "You better decide soon. We leave tomorrow morning."

* * *

Sarah entered her home with a steadfast and determined mindset. Everything she could ever ask for was right in front of her. And it scared her. Because when did life ever give her exactly what she needed? There was indeed a catch but only the future would tell it.

She didn't want to deal with the heartache of whatever was in store for her. She wasn't the girl that got what she wanted. She never was and that was the only thing Sarah Walker held near and dear to her heart. Ever since she was conscious, she knew life wasn't easy. And there she stood, with Paul McCartney arms opened, inviting her to travel and experience with no strings attached. Everything told her to fight it.

But now here she stands, in the doorway of her home, looking to her mother reading in the dim light, about to change her life. This moment terrified her, as it would terrify any human. Her future was finally in her hands, hers for the taking. And all she had to do was confront her fears.

"Mum," she said quietly. Her mother looked up at her briefly, then back to her book.

"You're back pretty late. Did you have fun today?"

"Mum, I'm leaving."

"What are you talking about? You just got home."

"I don't mean right now, and for a few minutes. I mean tomorrow, and for a long time…" Her mother put down her book, removed her glasses and gave her daughter a very stone cold gaze. "Maybe a few months…" _Maybe forever._

"Excuse me? What are you saying?"

"Well, Mr. Epstein booked a tour for the band in America and-"

"The band!" Her mother yelled, rising up from her chair. "The Beatles! They're noise has been all over the airways! I can't turn over a station without hearing that blasted rock & roll crap! What did they say to you?" Sarah was scared stiff. For the first time in a long time, Sarah's mother was actually scaring her.

"P-Paul asked if I would join them on their tour. As a companion of theirs."

"And that's all? _Just _a companion?" The implication that dropped caused all the fear to drain out of Sarah and be replaced with a small spark of anger.

"Yes. And I know you're not excited about me going across the world, but this is what we wanted. I'm leaving home. I'm going out and living my life the way we always wanted." Her mother scoffed.

"That's not what I wanted." Sarah's confusion caused a delayed response.

"W-what? Isn't that what we worked for? All those college letters, just trying to get me to leave-"

"What letters?" Her mother held a smirk simply dripping with poison.

"My college letters. You wrote them out yourself; you were so keen on me getting into somewhere!"

"I wrote them," she said. "But never sent them."

Silence.

"Why would you do that? All I wanted was to move on from this place, learn something, experience something, _do _something! And I thought that's what you wanted for me too!"

"You leave and I'm stuck right here. In this disgusting excuse of a town! I could have lived in London. I wasn't even limited to England, I could have gone to Paris, Rome, New York City, anywhere! But I stayed here to take care of you. I wasted my life for you!"

"You hate me," Sarah said, the truth biting at her stomach, making her sick. But it was the truth. It glowed red in her mother's eyes and words. It killed her right down to her core. "You actually hate me. But why?"

"Because you look so much like him." Sarah bit back the tears. "I hate him so much. I told him every day. But then he left. And you remind me so much of him. If I couldn't hate him…"

Sarah's heart dropped. It was strange, how in an instant the person who raised you and cared for you for an entire lifetime could become nothing more than dirt.

"You bitch," she hissed out. "Go burn in hell." Sarah turned on her heels and strode into her room, slamming the door as hard as she could. Her tiny home felt suddenly smaller.

* * *

The early morning sun shined through the closed curtains of a damp and cold apartment. It was always a place of fear and hate. But the last spark of warm love was gone. It might be habitable for some people, but for Sarah Walker, continuing living here was like signing her death certificate.

She held three things in her hands: a medium size luggage bad, a hastily scribbled letter and a piece of fabric with her initialsembroidered on it. As quietly as she could, she closed her door and shuffled up the small staircase. Right behind the door, her mother slept. She placed the letter there so when she finally woke up, she would see it. Everything her mother needed to know what in that letter.

She went back downstairs through the kitchen, towards the screen door with far too many holes in it. She stood there for a moment, one hand holding her belongings and the other the doorknob. She forcefully pushed back the tears threatening to fall. They didn't listen to her.

She put down her bag and cried into her small handkerchief. It was the last relic of her grandmother she had left. Before she passed away, she taught Sarah how to sew, knit, crochet, embroider and fix all types of clothing. Sarah was certain she was the last person on earth who still loved her. She held onto the last gift her grandmother ever gave her like a life line. After all this time and she could still smell the apple cinnamon.

With a long, deep breath, Sarah opened the door and left without a sound. The screen closed without a sound where it would usually squeak loud enough to wake all of Liverpool. She looked over her shoulder and caught eye with the most spectacular sunrise she ever saw. She felt so warm, so happy. She felt free finally.

* * *

One extremely tiring run later, Sarah spotted Paul, George, Richie and Brian waiting in front of a coach bus with their luggage. Brian looked especially pissed. But when Paul lifted his head and saw Sarah, his mood instantly brightened.

"Sarah!" He went running for her. She dropped her bag and met him half way, being lifted up into a wonderfully fun embrace. "You're coming with us?"

"How could I stay behind?" She smiled a smile that was new to Paul. It was so much brighter, lighter, than anything he'd ever seen from his friend; like her soul was shining through her eyes, finally. He thought that was how she was meant to look, if years of hate hadn't faded her light from the world. He smiled at her and pulled her into another tight hug.

"John, you are late!" Brian yelled. The four turned to see John schlepping his baggage behind him, but a smile on his face nonetheless. He caught a sight of Sarah and flashed a knowing smirk.

"It is 5:15 Lennon. You should have been here a quarter of an hour ago. Time waits for no man," Sarah said in a faux stern tone.

"Unless it's a Beatle," he replied smugly. "Anyway, I saved your life Sarah Walker."

"Oh really? How so?"

"If I didn't show up late, we would have left without you and you would be stuck here for the rest of your life. Remember that. I saved you."

"I'll remember that John." She walked over and pulled his black hat he liked wearing so much down over his head. "This mean I have to save your life too now, huh?" John pulled his hat back up properly.

"Yup!"

"Okay, everyone on the bus! We're running late as it is!" Brian called. Always so anal.

The four band members, Sarah and Brian all piled into the bus and were speeding off to the airport. Today, she felt it. Today was the day that Sarah's life changed.

But it wasn't the day that changed her life.

5


	12. Chapter 12

*AN: Whoa! Look who got off her lazy ass and did something!? This chapter is WAYYY overdue! I understand that. My school musical got me busy and some family troubles got me distracted. But I have the chapter here and I broke it into two parts. It was getting a bit too hectic for one chapter so I'm breaking it up into two and cleaning up 13 a bit. So plans are pushed back, but just slightly... But it's the Ed Sullivan performance, so enjoy! Thanks for dealing with my craziness. =)

* * *

The air smelled different. It was grimier, sootier, but it gave even the air life. You could tell this was a place of real people doing real things. It was the total opposite of Liverpool. Sarah was over the moon.

Along with the band, Brian, their road manager, Mal Evans, and some people from the press, Sarah exited the plane onto the tarmac. For a fleeting instance, she thought they let them off the plane with the jet engines still on. But she realized quickly it was the fans.

Wow. That was a lot of fans. She glanced over to her lads. They seemed equally as stunned. No, they were more stunned. Because they were the ones these crazed teenagers were screaming at. It slowly dawned on her who she was with. She also realized how this was going to be a bigger experience for her than she initially planned.

Everything from that moment on was fast and loud. From getting off the plane, into the car, out of the car and into the building, the group had at least two near death experiences each. Sarah's happened when a crowd of fans piled on top of the car she was in and nearly collapsed the roof on its passengers, and when a wild fan got hold of her sleeve and pulled her down into the crowd. She was kicked and few times, but Brian ripped the sleeve off the rest of her jacket, getting her away and giving that one fan a real genuine souvenir.

But now the screams were defined, constricted and held back. Sarah, standing with Brian and Martin, watched backstage on the Ed Sullivan show, admiring the Fab Four as they nervously jittered with their instruments and fixed their famous hair. It was funny; Sarah had never seen John Lennon so much as break a sweat before and, at that moment, it appeared as if he was going to be sick on national television. The only one that looked any type of calm was George, but that was guessable. Despite being the youngest, George was the coolest. Sarah wondered about him sometimes. He was the quiet, shy, mysterious one, but later on down his road he was going to be something special.

Soon, the commercial break was over and the cameras swung around to Ed himself. The audience went eerily quiet. It was not normal to have a room packed with teenage girls sharing a space with the Beatles and dead silence hang in the hair. But Ed Sullivan was that kind of a man. His booming voice filled the whole of the studio and rushed right back to stage.

"Now yesterday and today, our theater's been jammed with newspapers and hundreds of photographers from all over the nation," he began. "And they have agreed with me that the city has never witnessed the excitement stirred by these youngsters from Liverpool who call themselves the Beatles." Sarah took her eyes off the host for a fleeting moment to glimpse at her boys. At that moment, Paul seemed to have the same idea and the two locked eyes with each other. They shared the same smile. As of this moment, they were all out of smelly, grotty Liverpool. John, Paul, George and Ringo were international superstar names. Sarah treasured the fact that no one knew her name. That in time would change; being a companion to the biggest rock and roll group in the world didn't leave much room for privacy. But Sarah didn't mind her anonymity. She was absolutely pleased with staying out of the camera's way and watching her friend's grow and learn, giving them all the love she had in her heart to them along the way.

"Now tonight," he continued, "you are going to be twice entertained by them. Right now and again in the second half of our show." Three songs during the first set and to during the next. That's five songs they need to perform perfectly to win over America's heart. Sarah praised her lads, but even she was a bit skeptical. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Beatles!" Now the audience burst into ear-shattering screams. Sarah could barely hear Paul count them off over the frenzied crowd of fans. Gradually, the music became more pronounced as the amplifiers were turned up. She recognized the song instantly, 'All My Loving'. A personal favorite of hers. She remembered when Paul and John said they had a new song and she begged and begged to hear just the chorus. She loved the harmonies they put at the end and Paul was wonderfully satisfied with her reaction.

They sounded amazing. It was incredible how they sounded just like they did in the recording studio. Every note was dead centre, every beat was right on the dot, everything they did was made to impress. Sarah took in their appearances on stage. It really was a tell-tale sign of their personalities. Paul was singing lead on this song, with his bass held at a perfect angle, standing proud and tall like a statue, with a slight bounce in his playing. His face was so animated; more than singing the song, he was telling it. Looking over one band member, George stood there, tapping his foot and playing his lead guitar. He was by far the best guitarist Sarah knew personally. He didn't smile most of the time, but he would crack a few every now and again, especially when he knew the camera was on him. He took this as his job more than the others. He didn't see himself as a celebrity, he saw himself as a musician. That was his occupation and he was expected to play in a band. That's what he did. His seriousness was incredibly cute. Right behind him was Ringo. It was incomprehensible how he could be labeled the 'sad Beatle'. His smile was the brightest in the room. He was so incredibly happy at that moment. That was Richie in a nutshell: he was happy to help. He didn't want to have any drum solos or special treatment. Most of the time he was forgotten, but he was happy just to be a part of this with his friends. Sitting up there on the little platform for the world to see him play, banging out the beat on his drum set was the best thing in the world to him. And finally John stood stage left, being the weird strange person that he was. He stood with a slight bowlegged-ness and his guitar oddly high up on his chest. It seemed near impossible to play it that way, but he was doing it. It also didn't seem like he was singing when he leaned into the microphone. But, if you could hear anything over the screaming girls, he was the clearest to understand. Everything about him was his own and no one could even compare to the way John Lennon held himself on stage. It was a real experience to watch.

As the song progressed, everyone in the studio became more excited and energetic. Sarah couldn't help but dance to the music and she even got Brian to dance with her. From behind them, they both heard a rather miraculous comment. An old man, probably in his late 60's, dressed in his work uniform stood holding a push broom and watching the boys. His face was slightly surprised and mildly impressed.

"Wow," he said in an old, scratchy voice. "They really can sing." Brian and Sarah looked at each other and burst into laughter. His comment was not only comical (who in their right mind would think the Beatles can't sing), but it also secured their success.

A hidden fear they all shared was the older generation. Most parents weren't fans of rock and roll or their long hair. John, Paul, George and Richie just proved that they were good enough to get everyone's acceptance. Their career was set in stone now.

As their first song came to an end, the four stood tall and took a unison bow that had been given the nickname, 'the Brian Bow', as Brian told all the bands he managed to bow in such a way after every performance.

The next song they played was 'Till There Was You.' A radiating smile came off of Sarah, as the memories attached to this song came flooding back. Her dance with Paul, the intense kiss they shared afterwards and the thrill she felt when she was told that very cover version would be featured on their upcoming album. She and Paul shared a knowing look that day, but as he sung this time his eyes never veered from his adoring audience and the camera. He didn't have to peek backstage to know Sarah was there and what he was thinking about at that moment shifted from all of America to just one girl.

But something out of the ordinary happened: at some point during the bridge of the song, the audience started to call out especially loud. No, it wasn't calling out, it was more like crying out. And they were crying for John. Sarah heard distinctive yells for the band member, girls screaming "John, John, John!" and "John Lennon! No!" She peeked out just enough to see and not get caught by the cameras and noticed the fans wore absolute distress on their faces. That wasn't normal to see unpleasantness in the crowd during a Beatles performance.

At the end of that song, they jumped right into 'She Loves You.' That got the audience up and cheering with smiles again. Too soon it seemed their first set was over. Ed Sullivan, of course with his loud voice and powerful presence, silenced the teenagers as he dedicated the performance. When it was called and they cut for a commercial break, the four hastily placed down their instruments and ran backstage towards their manager and friend. A low cheer started between the groups, climaxing as they collided in a ferocious hug. John actually lifted Sarah straight up, holding her legs and spinning her head-first around in a circle like a child playing airplane. When she was placed down, she jumped on Ringo's back and hugged him around his neck. George pulled Sarah off Ringo and hugged her from behind. She wriggled to face forward and launched herself at him, getting lifted off the ground again.

When she was placed down for the final time, she turned to face Paul. His face was bright and full of pride for what he did. He didn't attack her with a massive hug like the other did, nor did she really expect it. Without a word, he held her face, pulled it close and gave her the most passionate kiss they've shared in a long while. Right then, Sarah forgot about the talk that had all those nights ago about the band's image and what's best for Paul's blossoming career, and in all her excitement and auxiliary from that night, kissed him back with just as much passion. Everyone backstage was far too caught up in congratulating the Beatles and trying to get closer to them to notice the public display of affection going on behind the small curtains of the stage. Brian was the only one who paid any mind to them, which reminded him that he had an ax to grind with the couple. But that was for a later time. He would let them have one last moment together.

All too soon, they were needed for the last half of the show and returned to the stage. This time, Ed Sullivan could barely get through his introduction before the crowd started screaming again. The second set included 'I Saw Her Standing There' and 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'. They bowed for the last time before removing their instruments and went to shake hands with Mr. Sullivan. As the four waved to the audience and basked in the limelight without the nerves of a performance surrounding them, Ed Sullivan kindly shooed them off his stage.

The four rock stars were dragged off to their dressing room, while Sarah had to fight her way to follow them. When the door closed behind them and the five friends were left alone, the most intense round of celebratory drinking they'd ever experienced began.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Sorry for the wait! School is winding down and it's getting to me...

But the chapter is up now so enjoy! =D

(sorry, it's midnight, I'm tired)

* * *

The celebration didn't stop when they left the studio; it merely moved to their hotel for the night. As it usually was, the Beatles booked two rooms with two beds in each room. It was usual for John and Paul to share a room and George and Richie to take the other. But a single adjacent room now had to be booked to house Sarah. It didn't connect to anyone else's room and it was just a one bed room. It was a single because every man on the tour knew about Sarah. She was the only girl on the road with them and they all shared the same strange attraction to her. They knew what could happen and no one wanted to be blamed with making a mistake first.

But now, the merriment was being shared amongst the five friends. Richie and George's luggage was scattered on the floor and beds. The alcohol had stopped flowing, but the joy had not. Paul and John remained in the lobby with Brian to speak of the payment for the show. That left Sarah, Richie and George to have fun on their own; as they did.

"Maybe if you smiled more, you'd get more birds," Sarah said, teasing George.

"Maybe if you wrote your own songs," Richie added in.

"Oi! Says the drummer!" George retorted, throwing a pillow at his mate. "Who can't carry a tune for his life!"

"Now be nice to poor Ringo. He's underappreciated as an artist and as a musician," Sarah said in a posh voice.

"A musician? No, I'm a musician. John and Paul are musicians. Ringo's a percussionist." Sarah fell over laughing at the terrible joke. Richie laughed too, as it was all in good fun. Any insult or sly remark George ever threw around was just in good fun.

The hotel door swung open, with John emerging into the room being followed by Paul and Brian.

"Ah! There's my little angel!" he said running to Sarah and pulling her to his chest.

"Since when have I been _your _angel?" she said pushing him away slightly.

"You've always been my angel love," he said, looking at her right in the eyes and attacking her neck with his mouth, intent on leaving the biggest mark he could in the shortest amount of time.

"Get off me Lennon. You've got a wife remember? Cynthia?" She playfully budged him off, but it did no use.

"She's not here, is she?" He went back to kissing her neck with much passion in his work. It did feel good and it was John Lennon doing it… _Stop it Sarah!_

"John, that's a terrible thing to say!" She pushed him off her. "She's your wife and she has your son with her!"

"And I love her to death," he said. "She's the most beautiful and clever woman I've ever met and the day I married her was the happiest day of me life. I've only got eyes for her. But I've got a cock for every bird that breathes."

"And maybe a few blokes too…" Sarah said in a very coy tone.

"Don't go there, Walker." John's face and words were grave serious.

"I'm just saying I don't know what goes on behind closed doors. You could be as queer as dear old Brian."

"Who is still in the room, mind you know," Brian said with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. The jokes he had heard from his friends were expected. Being gay wasn't an acceptable lifestyle choice to anyone, but Brian was loved and respected enough not to get insulted. Anyone who insulted, teased or bullied Brian for being gay was harshly punished. Sarah learned the hard way. She was misinformed about Brian's orientation and let it slip he was a 'fairy fag'. Not a single person took it lightly. Sarah apologized right away and became just as defensive about anyone insulting her father-figure as the lads were.

"Brian! Caring, considerate, wonderful Brian Epstein! I meant nothing of it, of course. You could do so much better than John." Everyone, except for John, laughed.

"Well, if we're done insulting John, I've got some business matters I came up here to take care of." Sarah, George and Richie groaned, falling dramatically back onto the beds.

"No, no! This involves our first paycheck!" John said enthusiastically. This perked up the group.

"And it's a very good paycheck if I do say so myself," Brian added with a smile. He reached into his inner coat pocket and revealed the white envelopes in question. "George first." He handed one envelope to George's greedy hands. He tore it open and stared at it with wide eyes.

"Wow. That's a lot of digits," he commented. I bet while doing his little paper runs in Liverpool, never in his wildest dreams would he be holding that much money.

"Lennon, you're next." John leaped at Brian, but the mature adult pulled it away from his grasp. "Don't spend it all in one place, you hear me?" His tone was that of a father laying down the rules for his five year old son.

"Of course not Eppy! What do you make me out to be?" John smiled his goofy smile ad Brian gave in. John swiped it from his manager and started dancing and cheering around the hotel room.

"I thought money couldn't buy you love John!" Sarah called out to him in a rather smart tone.

"Ah, it can't my little angel. But I don't need to buy love. I've got my wife and son back at home. This will buy a lot of material possessions that will, in turn, make me very happy." John's logic only made sense to John.

"Paul, here you go." Paul was the calmest when he opened his check. He was present with Brian, along with John, while the payments were being made. But knowing didn't make him any less happy when he held the paper in his hand. This was his solid proof that he was, indeed, a rock star. The little chubby boy from Liverpool, England, the one that everyone made fun of, the boy that wouldn't smoke or drink or cuss in front of his father, had a million screaming girls outside his door, one very special girl by his side and a very pretty number printed on a check made out to him. It seemed that all those birthday wishes paid off.

"And Ringo." Brian passed it off to the drummer.

"Open it! Does it say Ringo on it?" Sarah asked impatiently. He tore it open and perused it once over.

"Nope. Richard Starkey, right there in black-and-white." Richie said with slight disappointment.

"Maybe you should legally change your name," George suggested.

"Nuh-uh. I was born with this name and I'll die Richard Starkey!"

"Very honorable, Ringo!" Sarah stated, bounding up off the bed. "You won't change anything about you for anyone!"

"Yeah, and it'll help if you don't call me Ringo!" He reached for the girl and tackled her down, playing like they were a group of puppies. Or five-year-olds.

"Hey, Eppy's got one more check," George said.

"Calm down, George. You're not getting another one. It's probably Eppy's," Sarah said, pushing her friend off.

"Actually, it's not," Paul said with his signature 'The Cute One' smile on. "We talked a bit and decided we want you to have something to." Sarah's eyes widened and flew across the room to the paper in Brian's hand. She ripped it out of his grip and tore it open, gazing upon the largest number she ever thought she would see. And this was the girl who thought her £5 raise was something. No excitement set over her, it was skepticism and shock.

"This is mine?"

"Yes indeed, it is," Brian noted. Sarah looked back down at her check.

"Why? I haven't done anything to deserve this."

"You're as much of the band as the boys are," he said with love in his green eyes. "We all love you and we know you could use some money."

"This is a dream come true for all of us," Paul chipped in. "We wanted to make another dream of yours come true." Sarah perused her money one last time, making sure this was real. Excitement finally set in.

Her screams of joy radiated out of the room and down the hotel halls. The band members began rejoicing with her, and the five were on the verge of starting another round of drinking involving Brian, but he cut the celebration short.

"That is under one condition Sarah." She stopped in her tracks; there was always a catch. "You send half of that money to your mother."

"No," she said without a moment's hesitation.

"That's the deal Sarah. You get the money if you send some back to your mother in Liverpool to support her."

"I will not. This check is written out to me and I will not give that bitch any satisfaction."

"Sarah, listen-" Paul began, reaching to place a calming hand on his friend's shoulder, but she retaliated.

"No, I won't listen! You know what happened! How could you even-" Realization set over her. "You knew Paul. When you were down there with Brian. You helped him make that deal." Her head swung around to John. "You too John?" He didn't make eye contact with her. Sarah felt personally betrayed. "You know what she said to me, what she did to me. I never thought I'd have my heart broken by that woman. And now you want me to send her _that kind _of money to her?! No! I won't do it!"

"Sarah, you don't understand," Paul said, reaching to smooth her hair and calm her. "She was emotional and you were emotional. She's still your mother and she cared for you. You still love her." Paul soothed his friend as best as he could. Sarah pushed away his touch.

"No I don't! I hate her!" The tears started coming. "She left me when I needed her! I don't know if she ever did love me! My dad abandoned us and then she does this to me! She never did love me, I know it! She's not getting any of this money to make her rotten life any easier! I hate her, I hate her, I hate her!" The girl could barely control her breathing anymore. Paul held her close while she continued hyperventilating. This was the first time she let the betrayal of what her mother said to her really touch her. It hurt her more than she could imagine.

When she finally calmed down, only one of the men in the room knew exactly what to say to her: "No you don't."

Everyone turned to John, with the gravest face he ever wore. There was no teasing light in his eyes or a snarky smile playing on his lips. He stared into Sarah's eyes; brown into green. "You're angry and upset, but you don't hate her. You can never hate her." The room stood in silence, John's confession hanging in the air. Sarah turned to Paul, his best friend, to see his reaction. His sweet and tender doe eyes agreed with John, including the slightest nod of his head. She looked back to John. He was staring her down, trying to see into her mind, her emotions. He wanted to relive that pain he felt just so he could comfort his friend.

Julia and Alison; John and Sarah. These two parallel stories contained the same heartache and betrayal. But while one tale ended in tragedy, John was determined to save the other one. If anyone was to talk about the love and forgiveness shared between a mother and her child, it was John Lennon.

A new wave of tears breached Sarah's eyes, but they were no longer angry. They were of guilt and sadness. She felt ashamed, when faced with John, that she could ever say things like that to the woman who birthed her and raised her. The passion and ferocity she had was only given to her from her mother. They were both domineering; they were bound to butt heads constantly.

It was a sudden moment, they were both caught up in the moment and said things they didn't mean. Sarah was sure she said things she hadn't meant. Whatever her mother said, it wasn't real. It was an excuse, a reason, a blame she couldn't place anywhere else. The loss of her daughter meant the last person she loved would be leaving her for good, leaving her to die alone.

One moment popped into Sarah's mind. It was when she was eleven and she had got gotten through an especially rough 'session' with her father. He was passed out and she was bruised and humiliated, not for the first time. At only eleven, with so many glorious years ahead of her, young Sarah walked away from her room, broken and lost, seriously contemplating ending her suffering. She knew where the carving knives were. She knew where her mother's medicine was. She could easily slip into her parent's room and take one of her father's belts. All the ideas came so easily to her.

Suddenly, her name was whispered. Her mother, covered in blankets from hiding from the sounds of her daughter's pain and her husband's evil, was staring longingly at her only child. She sat up and held her arms out, needing as much love and comfort as the child. Sarah gladly ran into her mother's arms and began crying. Her mother cried enough before her daughter exited her room, now she was easing and loving and giving the faith back to her baby that was so harshly taken from her. That entire night, the sounds of a mother's comforting love and a daughter's gracious cries filled the small room. But not a single cry of loss of life was heard that night.

No. Her mother did not hate her. She could never.

* * *

When Sarah finally calmed down and letter was written to Alison Walker, containing a very handsome amount of money, the group was ready to say goodnight. Paul, John, Sarah and Brian left George's and Richie's room, but Brian casually pulled Paul and Sarah aside in the hall.

"I have to talk with you two," the manager said without a trace of smile in his voice. It was almost as if the two were in trouble.

"What is it?" Paul asked.

"I know that you have… an intimate relationship. I don't know how intimate, but it's much more serious than a friendship." The two stayed silent, not even chancing to look at each other. Brian sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I've made it public of John's marriage."

"What?! When?" Paul was in shock and Sarah's mouth was hanging open. It was seriously crossing her mind that John knew nothing of this. He would never approve!

"During the Ed Sullivan show. I had the camera close up on each of you and place your names on the screen. Under John's name, it read 'Sorry girls, he's married'." Brian smirked at his own plan like he was the most clever man in the world.

"Does John know?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, he does. He agreed that telling now would be better than having the press find out later on and accusing him of wrong doing."

"Why would they do that?" Paul asked, getting just slightly more excited.

"He was hiding a wife and child from the public. You would do that unless you had something incriminating to hide."

"He does, he knocked her up and married her to make up for it," Sarah stated. Brian winced.

"That's what we're trying to avoid the press knowing."

"What does this have to do with us then?" Brain took a moment.

"I don't want you to think this is an excuse for you to have a more public relationship. Quite the opposite; I want you two to stop seeing each other."

"Excuse me?" Paul exclaimed.

"If you have any romantic relations with each other, as of now it's over. I can't afford two of my lads being taken off the market. It's bad enough we lost John." Sarah never saw anything like it. It was like Brain was talking like his band was just a money-making machine, not four living people with feelings.

"That's not fair, Brian! You can't control us like that!" Paul yelled.

"Well as your manager, I can. But as for Sarah, you're right. She's her own person." He turned to gaze upon her. "But you understand how this can make or break their career. I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that it was the right thing."

Sarah knew that he was right. It killed her that he was right.

"I have to go to sleep now, it's late. I suggest you two go too. Remember what I said." He looked to his girl one last time. "Sarah." He met eyes with Paul, which were much more heated. "Good night Paul." Brian turned and entered his room.

"That fucking faggot thinks he can tell me what to do like that!" Paul said intensely.

"Paul, please-"

"No! Don't side with him. It's not fair that John can walk around all lovey-dovey with his wife and I can't even hold your hand!"

"Shh!" Sarah leaned in and placed a finger on Paul's lips to silence him. Their eyes locked. "Brian's right though. You just off the Ed Sullivan show and you've got thousands of new fans. Maybe millions. How many of them will be devastated when they find out 'The Cute One' has some bird?"

"You're not some bird," Paul argued. Sarah's heart soared.

"I am to the rest of the world. They don't even know I exist. And you've just made it. Everything is still so new and unsure. He's right, who knows how this will go over? Already less than a day old and the Beatles are left with only two eligible bachelors? No one will want you anymore."

"I don't care about the bloody fans or the press or the media. I care about you and I want to be with you." He pulled her close to her, chests together so she could almost feel his heart beating furiously. He was more upset than he was leading on.

"Remember when I said I'll wait for you? I stand by that. I made the joke that when John comes out with Cyn then I'll come out with you, but I can wait a little longer." Paul's eyes sparkled with some intense feeling. It was awe and wonder and… something sweet. Something Sarah never saw before. It was a new look that men never lay upon her and she was drinking it up.

"How long will you wait?" he asked intertwining their hands.

"As long as it takes."

"I won't wait that long," he said bringing her fingers up to kiss each one softly.

"How about a year? In exactly one year, if you're still interested in me, we can start going steady and tell everyone, no matter what Brian says. I'll wait and all you have to do is become as famous as you possibly can." Paul smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his lips. Actually, it looked like he killed them before they could escape, before he let slip some deep secret that wasn't supposed to be shared. Sarah caught his face growing into a strange concern, and she stopped it before it ruined their moment.

"But until then," she continued, "what Brian doesn't know won't hurt him." She released her grip from Paul and curled her fingers into his belt loops and pulled him closer. "I mean, after all, you are famous Paul McCartney. How could I possibly control myself?" Paul grew a sly grin and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her so they were entirely pressed together, curling in on each other.

"I do like the way you think," he chuckled and began kissing down her neck. Sarah groaned softly at the feeling of Paul's lips on her bare skin. It was icy hot and a wonderful sensation. She tilted her head back to give him more access to her neck, which he gladly accepted. His kisses trailed down her collarbone to the other side of her neck and up to behind her ear where he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin. Sarah was only putty in his arms, holding onto his strong shoulders for dear life.

Sarah had to forcefully pull herself out of Paul's sensation before she let this go too far.

"You know, being in a hallway isn't the most secluded place in the world. Out whole plan is ruined if Brian steps out of his room, " Sarah whispered in Paul's ear. He groaned but let go of her nonetheless. "We should go to sleep, it really is late and I am tired."

They joined hands until Sarah got to her room. She watch Paul walk a bit more until he unlocked his door. He turned back to Sarah.

"Good night Paul," she said softly, with hearts in her eyes, and added in a slightly lower tone: "Dream of me tonight." Paul couldn't form a response, just a smile and he retreated into his room just a bit too eagerly. Sarah chuckled to herself and entered her room. She curled up in her bed and gladly accepted the darkness of sleep to take her away.

* * *

_She woke up in the middle of the night in a brand new bed. But it wasn't a strange bed, it was her bed. And it wasn't in a strange room, it was still her room. But it wasn't her room or her bed back in Liverpool. Far from it._

_This room didn't even look like it belonged in England. Or any country for that. Nothing was brightly colored, the walls were a plain white and had two large windows showing the dark exterior of the night. Everything had a dull and sterile feel to it. It was cold to her. But it was still her room. _

_She admired the amount of books there were, but it was largely empty. However, by the far wall there was a wooden desk with a computer sitting on it._

_A computer._

_Sarah knew what computers were._

_She also knew what to do with it. _

"_Okay then," Sarah said getting out of her bed, "let's do a little research on the Beatles."_


	14. Chapter 14

5

**Chapter 14**

_The Beatles break up._

Sarah stared wide eyed at her screen. She read the glowing lines over and over again and still it didn't seem possible. She knew her boys, they loved each other and they loved their band. A break up wasn't an option, ever. But it happens. Will happen…

Sarah pushed herself away from her desktop, rolling back on her black, leather chair. She rubbed her face with force, trying to gain back some control over her racing mind. 'This whole time travel thing is really starting to get to me. Is this real or is that real, with the lads?' She remembered all the way back to her first dream without a beginning. She was in a park… with a lot of people… and…

"Dammit!" she exclaimed to the empty room. She couldn't remember a thing about that night. She had a life in Liverpool; whether that life was a dream or reality was to be determined, but it was a full life nonetheless. The life she had in the park, that was definitely this life. 'The moment in the park was in the future and this is the future. How else could I know what a computer is?' Her thoughts were slowly forming a coherent pattern.

'Okay then. Yes, I have two lives: here and there. In this time (according to the date on my clock, it's October 13th, 2011) and in 1964. I can recall most of my life from 1964, but I know enough about 2011. What do I know?

'There is the Internet, cell phones, iPods and satellite television. I most definitely live in the future.' But there were some things she didn't know. Where was she living was an important question. And how could she have two lives? Why was she jumping from one to the other, seemingly through time and space? Was there a way of controlling it?

'Sarah, shut up!' she thought to herself. 'There is absolutely no way of finding out how this is possible, so do what you do best: make up a reason yourself and stick with it.' If she couldn't find a solid answer, Sarah would make one up herself. The thought of not understanding pained her, as it would anyone, but it killed her more trying to go on without anything. To her, a made up answer was better than no answer at all.

'Let's see… I was born here in the future. I grew up here up until the age of 18. I was then sent back in time from the park to Liverpool. I had a whole life there too. When I turned 18 in England, my two timelines met up and that's when all this crazy stuff started happening.' Sarah suddenly felt light hearted, like she finally figured it out all on her own. She smiled to herself. She was wonderfully satisfied with her solution. Whether it seemed logical or not, it seemed like the right one. But one question still laid unanswered on her mind.

'Why did I go back in time in the first place?' She turned back to her computer and another question popped up. 'Why the hell did I look up the history of the Beatles? There were so many better things to search for.' Sarah thought long and hard about that. She recalled the day this started, when her two lines finally met up through time. It was so many years ago, it was all hard to decipher. 'Come on Sarah! What happened that day?'

'I told mom I wasn't going to college.'

'Then what?'

'She kicked me out of the house and told me to enjoy the day.'

'You did, didn't you?'

'Yeah, I walked around and then…'

'Was that the day you got your sketch pad and drew the Penny Lane sign?'

'Yeah it was! And then I met Paul!'

There.

It clicked.

She went back in time for him, for Paul.

Sarah groaned loudly out of pure frustration. She was on the verge of this enigma. She wished she had a joint so she could let her mind roam free. Maybe it would find the answers out in its own space. She was missing something. There was one big thing that was eluding her. She thought back, back to major event she ever had with Paul. Most of the memories made her smile, getting stuck on their first kiss. She could almost remember what his lips tasted like…

'No distractions! Think! What are you missing?!' She went around and around her mind. Nothing with Paul was sticking out as the answer. 'Maybe,' she contemplated, 'it wasn't Paul.' Was there anything that happened that didn't involve Paul? Yes, when she met John.

_John._

Sarah's blood froze. She couldn't see but she could tell her face was pale. It was John alright. He was the reason she had two parallel lives. She went back in time for him. But why? Why John Lennon?

Sarah's fingers shook as she typed into the search bar. 'John. Lennon.' She read the first three blue links that appeared. The first was John's official website, the one she figured all the lads had. The second was his Wikipedia page. The third was the Wiki page for his death.

Sarah audibly gasped. She was beyond terrified to click the link and see how her friend died. She wasn't even sure if she should. This was well beyond the realms of anything the young girl could ever imagine. A slight chill down her spine told her to tread carefully, that she should only know certain things. She had to make the choice whether or not this was something she wanted to know. She took one long, deep breath and with all of her strength and courage, she clicked on "Death of John Lennon."

_John Lennon__was an English musician who gained worldwide fame as one of the founders of__The Beatles__, for his subsequent solo career, and for his political activism and__pacifism__. He was shot by__Mark David Chapman__at the entrance of the building where he lived,__The Dakota__, in New York City on 8 December 1980. Lennon had just returned from__Record Plant Studio__with his wife,__Yoko Ono__._

_He was shot._

_Shot._

The tears ripped through Sarah's body like an explosion. They were uncontrollable and violent. She had never cried like this. Her water drenched eyes kept scanning the three lines. Every time she passed that one word, it felt like her heart was physically being stabbed. 'He was murdered.' The knife twisted. 'Someone murdered John Lennon.' It went deeper. 'He only lived to 40.' Deeper. Deeper and deeper until she got up and flung herself onto her bed, crying into the pillow, trying to burn the knowledge from her brain.

She felt as though she made a terrible mistake. She assumed that he died of a heart attack or at worse, a car crash. But he was murdered. Outside of his own home. He mentioned once how he envied the celebrities living in New York City. They were left alone and treated with much more respect than the ones in England. The papa was all over them and never gave a moment of rest. In America, they were left alone to live their private lives in private. All John wanted was to live somewhere where he could simply walk outside without any fear. Was that desire so selfish? That was all he wanted from his fame and it got him killed.

Sarah's breathing soon became regular. She lifted her head from her pillows and looked to her computer again. She greatly feared to search for her other friends' lives. She got up and cautiously sat in her chair. Three Beatles left. Who to look up next.

'Ringo Starr.'

Sarah sighed a sigh of relief. At least in the year 2011, Richie is still alive. He looked old. Very old. He wore dark glasses now and a very short haircut. He had a cute little goatee and the same big nose. Through his age and wrinkles, Sarah still saw her friend; his radiant smile was still the same.

As her research persisted, she learned that George too had died, but in a much calmer way. He had died of lung cancer in 2001. She had predicted right; out of all of the Beatles, George Harrison changed the most. Personality wise and physically. From the little shy, mysterious, quiet one, George became an enlightened, intelligent, positive man. He even started writing seriously and turned out some of the best Beatles song Sarah had yet to hear. Her personal favorite was 'Something'. It was so sweet and loving, Sarah wondered how George found the inspiration for it.

This insured the discovery of their future personal lives. Apparently, each of them did in fact marry. _Twice._ This shook Sarah because she was so very fond of Cynthia. She looked up who John remarried with and her expectations were destroyed. Yoko Ono was indeed not the lady anyone saw John Lennon with. In fact, all of John seemed to change drastically. They all grew their hair long, even longer than they had now, but John's was especially bad. It looked like a girl's hair! He wore wire-rimmed Granny glasses and became far, far thinner than he was. These changes, it seemed, to coincide with the appearance of Yoko in John's life. Sarah wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. As she continued, George married Pattie Boyd, whom later had an affair with Eric Clapton, George's best friend, and soon left George to marry Eric. That was way too dramatic for Sarah's taste. He remarried Olivia Arias and had just one son which looked exactly like George. Richie married Maureen Tigrett, who slept with George and then divorced and remarried Barbara Bach. Sarah thought for a fleeting moment that the Beatles were a bit too lenient with their wives. But when she looked up Paul, which she dreaded more than anyone, it said that he married _three_ times! Her first instinct was to assume that he was a terrible husband. But that idea was kicked out of her mind. No, not the Paul McCartney she knew. There was a reason behind that number. She searched for his first wife.

She was beautiful. Absolutely stunning. Long blonde hair, amazing hazel eyes to match her husband's; it was not wonder Paul married this woman. She saw the pictures and videos of their wedding. She had never seen Paul so happy before. Never in all of their relationship had he ever smiled like he did when someone referred to Linda Eastman as Mrs. McCartney. It made Sarah feel totally inadequate. She saw the love in their eyes and realized Paul never looked at her like that, and he probably never would.

The despair he must have felt when Linda died. She died of cancer too. Sarah's heart broke for him. It wasn't fair. First he lost his mother, then John, George and Linda too. His life was a tragedy. She found that he had children, five to be specific. Four girls and a boy. Heather, Stella, Beatrice, Mary and James. They were all as successful as their father.

He had a wonderful life. All the way until the ripe old age of 69 and still going strong. And not a single word of Sarah. Paul McCartney grew into the greatest rock and roll star in the world, married the beautiful Linda Eastman, and did it all without her.

_All without him ever loving you back. _

Sarah angrily closed the browser. She had to process all she knew. John and George were dead and Paul moved on without her. These facts sat heavy in her heart. She didn't know what to do with them. What would happen now? Go back to her other time with her friends and watch as they create beautiful masterpieces of music, slowly drift apart, go their own ways and see John Lennon have his life stolen from him? That wasn't fair for her.

That made an idea stick in her head and it made her sick to her stomach. _I want to but I don't want to._ She googled 'John Lennon's Death' again and stared at the date. December 8th, 1980. That was an awfully long time away from 1964 and a lot of time to plan. Now that she knew, Sarah could easily save the life of the world's most important man. It wouldn't be hard; she knew the time and place. But she was messing with fate now. No one knew what would happen if she continued down this path.

A quote popped into her head. _And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths…_ She knew the future and it might end up destroying her instead of saving someone else. Maybe it was better left unknown.

But the problem was now that Sarah did know. She would go back to the 60's and hold this deep in the darkest crevice of her heart. Nothing was going to change that. Now, she could either watch and do nothing or try to change the ending.

Only one option sat well with her.

She grabbed a pen and a little book. She flipped to the first page and made multiple bullet notes:

Do not interfere with the natural timeline

Get to New York City on December 8th, 1980. Either keep John at home, keep him at the studio or stop MDC

Attempt to convince George to stop smoking or make him start getting regular checkups

Tell no one

Sarah had one more bullet on the page, which left one more decision she had to make. Of course, it was about Paul. She could try to keep up a relationship with him, or at least whatever she thought they had which was fooling around when Eppy wasn't looking. Sarah wasn't even sure if that was considered a relationship. But she knew in her heart it wasn't right to take Paul away from his future love. They would grow old together, have wonderful children and Linda would pass with the love of the most amazing man Sarah had ever known. She wouldn't want someone to take that from her, so she would not take it away from another woman. With a heavy heart, she added her last bullet:

Let Paul go

Sarah then turned off her computer and closed her journal. She climbed into bed and checked the flashing digital clock next to her bed. _What a wonderful invention,_ Sarah thought to herself. It read 2:18 a.m. If she fell asleep now, maybe she wouldn't be so tired for tomorrow's activites, running around with the Beatles, concert to concert, hotel to hotel, adventure to adventure. Grasping her journal tightly to her chest, Sarah let the dark coolness of sleep overtake her.


End file.
